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SOJOURNER TRUTH'S 



NARRATIVE AND BOOK OF LIFE. 




SOJTO UMNMM TR UVlHi, 

" THE. LIBYAN SIBYL. " 



I 

N A R R A T I V E 



OF 



SOJOURNER TRUTH 



J ilonistoonran of ®Ibtn lime, 



EMANCIPATED BY THE NEW YORK LEGISLATURE IN THE EARLY 
PART OF THE PRESENT CENTURY; 



WITH A HISTORY OF HER 



Labors and Correspondence, 



DRAWN" FROM HKB 



"BOOK OF LIFE." 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR. 

18 7 5. 



)1 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, 

By Mrs. FRANCES W. TITUS, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



PREFACE. 



The following is the unpretending narrative of the life 
of a remarkable and meritorious woman — a life which 
has been checkered by strange vicissitudes, severe hard- 
ships, and singular adventures. Born a slave, and held 
in that brutal condition until the entire abolition of slavery 
in the State of New York in 1S27, she has known what 
it is to drink to the dregs the bitterest cup of human 
degradation. That one thus placed on a level with cattle 
and swine, and for so many years subjected to the most 
demoralizing influences, should have retained her moral 
integrity to such an extent, and cherished so successfully 
the religious sentiment in her soul, shows a mind of no 
common order, while it heightens the detestation that is 
felt in every humane bosom, of that system of oppres- 
which seeks to cripple the intellect, impair the un- 
derstanding, and deprave the hearts of its victims — a 
- -'em which has subjected to its own foul purposes, in 
the United States, all that is wealthy, talented, influen- 
. and reputedly pious, in an overwhelming measure ! 

the ' fantastic tricks' which the American people are 



yi PREFACE. 

1 playing before high Heaven !' O their profane use of 
the sacred name of Liberty ! O their impious appeals 
to the God of the oppressed, for his divine benediction, 
while they are making merchandise of his image ! Do they 
not blush % Nay, they glory in their shame ! Once a year 
they take special pains to exhibit themselves to the world, 
in all their republican deformity and Christian barbarity, 
insanely supposing that they thus excite the envy, admi- 
ration and applause of mankind. The nations are look- 
ing at the dreadful spectacle with disgust and amaze- 
ment. However sunken and degraded they may be, 
they are too elevated, too virtuous, too humane to be 
guilty of such conduct. Their voice is heard, saying — 
4 Americans ! we hear your boasts of liberty, your shouts 
of independence, your declarations of hostility to every 
form of tyranny, your assertions that all men are 
created free and equal, and endowed by their Creator 
with an inalienable right to liberty, the merry peal of 
your bells, and the deafening roar of your artillery ; but, 
mingling with all these, and rising above them all, we also 
hear the clanking of chains ! the shrieks and wailings of 
millions of your own countrymen, whom you wickedly 
hold in a state of slavery as much more frightful than 
the oppression which your fathers resisted unto blood, as 
the tortures of the Inquisition surpass the stings of an 
insect! We see your banner floating proudly in the 
breeze from every flag-staff and mast-head in the land ; 
but its blood-red stripes are emblematical of your own 



LCE. vn 

slave-driving cruelty, as you apply the lash to tl i 
of your guiltless victim, even the flesh of a wife 
mother, Bhrieking for the restoration of the babe of her 
■in. sold to the r< we speculator ! We 

catch the gleam of your illuminated hills, lere 

blazing with bonfires; we mark youi 
we note the number of your orators; we listen to 
recital of your revolutionary achievements : we see ; 

eling at the shrine of Freedom, as her best, her tin I 
her sincerest worshippers ! Hypocrites ! liars ! adul- 
terers ! tyrants! men-stealers ! atheists! Professing to 
believe in the natural equality of the human race — yet 
dooming a sixth portion of your immense population to 
beastly servitude, and ranking them among your goods 
and chattels! Professing to believe in the exi 
a God — yet trading in his image, and selling those in the 
shambles for whose redemption the Son of God ] 
down his life! Professing to be Chi i — yet with- 

holding the Bible, the means of religious instruction, even 
the knowledge of the alphabet, from a benighted multi- 
tude, under terrible penalties ! Boasting of your de- 
irocracy — yet determining the rights of men by the 
texture of their hair and the color of their skin ! As- 
suming to be ' the land of the free and the home of the 
brave,' yet keeping in chains more slaves than any other 
nation, not excepting slave-cursed Brazil ! Prating of 
your morality and honesty — yet denying the rites of 
marriage to three millions of human beings, and plan- 



Vlll PREFACE. 

dering them of all their hard earnings! Affecting to be 
horror-struck in view of the foreign slave-trade — yet 
eagerly pursuing a domestic traffic equally cruel and un- 
natural, and reducing to slavery not less than seventy 
thousand new victims annually ! Vaunting of your free- 
dom of speech and of the press — your matchless Consti- 
tution and your glorious Union — yet denouncing as 
traitors, and treating as outlaws, those who have the 
courage and fidelity to plead for immediate, untram- 
melled, universal emancipation ! Monsters that ye are ! 
how can ye expect to escape the scorn of the world, and 
the wrath of Heaven 1 Emancipate your slaves, if you 
would redeem your tarnished character — if you would 
obtain forgiveness here, and salvation hereafter ! Until 
you do so, " there will be a stain upon your national 
escutcheon, which all the waters of the Atlantic cannot 
wash out !" ' 

Ft is thus that, as a people, we are justly subjected to 
the reproach, the execration, the derision of mankind, and 
are made a proverb and a hissing among the nations. 
We cannot plead not guilty ; every accusation that is 
registered against us is true ; the act of violence is in 
our hands ; the stolen property is in our possession ; our 
fingers are stained with blood ; the cup of our iniquity 
is full. 

'Just God ! and shall we calmly rest, 

The Christian's scorn — the Heathen's mirth — 
Content to live the lingering jest 
And bv-vord of a mocking earth? 



PREFACE, ix 

Shall our own glorious land retain 

That curse which Europe scorns to bear? 

Bliall our own brethren drag the chain, 
Which not even Russia's menials wea 



It is useless, it is dreadful, it is impious for this nation 
longer to contend with the Almighty. All his attributes 
are against us. and on the side of the oppressed. Is it 
not a fearful thins to fall into the hands of the living 

•1 ? Who may abide the day of his coming, and who 

- 11 stand when he appeareth as ' a swift witness against 

the adulterers, and against false swearers, and against 

those that oppress the hireling in his wages, the widow, 

1 the fatherless, and that turn aside the stranger from 

right V "Woe to this bloody land ! it is all full of lies 

: robbery — the prey departeth not, and the sound of 

a whip is heard continually. 'Judgment is turned away 

kward, and justice standeth afar off: for truth is fall- 
en in the street, and equity cannot enter. Yea, truth 

eth; and he that departeth from evil, maketh himself 
a prey? The Lord sees it, and is displeased that there 
is no judgment ; and he hath put on the garments of ven- 
geance for clothing, and is clad with zeal as a cloak, — 
1, unless we repent by immediately undoing the heavy 

lens and letting the oppressed go free, according to 
our deeds, accordingly he will repay, fury to his adver- 
saries, recompense to his enemies. ' The Lord execu- 
teth righteousness and judgment for all that are oppressed.' 
' give thanks unto the Lord ; for he is good : for his 



X PREFACE. 

mercy endureth for ever. To him that smote Egypt in 
their first-horn : for his mercy endureth for ever. And 
overthrew Pharaoh and his hosts in the Red sea : for his 
mercy endureth for ever.' ' Sing unto the Lord, for he 
hath triumphed gloriously : the horse and his rider hath 
he thrown into the sea. Thou didst blow with thy wind, 
the sea covered them : they sank as lead in the mighty 
waters.' 'Even so, Lord God Almighty, for so it 
seemeth good in thy sight.' ' "Who is like unto thee, O 
Lord, among the gods % who is like thee, glorious in holi- 
ness, fearful in praises, doing wonders ]' 

In this great contest of Right against Wrong, of Liber- 
ty against Slavery, who are the wicked, if they be not 
those, who, like vultures and vampyres, are gorging 
themselves with human blood 1 if they be not the plun- 
derers of the poor, the spoilers of the defenceless, the 
traffickers in ' slaves and the souls of men V Who are 
the cowards, if not those who shrink from manly argu- 
mentation, the light of truth, the concussion of mind, 
and a fair field ? if not those whose prowess, stimulated 
by whisky potations, or the spirit of murder, grows 
rampant as the darkness of night approaches; whose 
shouts and yells are savage and fiend-like ; who furiously 
exclaim, ' Down with free discussion ! down with the 
liberty of the press ! down with the right of petition ! 
down with constitutional law!' — who rifle mail-bags, 
throw types and printing-presses into the river, burn 
public halls dedicated to ' Virtue, Liberty and Indepen- 



PREFACE. XI 

dence,' and assassinate the defenders of inalienable 
human rights ? And who are the righteous, ill this c. 
if they be not those -who will 'have no fellowship with 
the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them ;' 
who maintain that the laborer is worthy of his hire, that 
the marriage institution is sacred, that slavery is a system 
accursed of God, that tyrants are the enemies of mankind, 
and that immediate emancipation should be given to all 
who are pining in bondage ! Who are the truly brave, 
if not those who demand for truth and error alike, free 
speech, a free press, an open arena, the right of petition, 
and no quarters ? if not those, who, instead of skulking 
from the light, stand forth in the noontide blaze of day, 
and challenge their opponents to emerge from their wolf- 
like dens, that, by a rigid examination, it may be seen 
who has stolen the wedge of gold, in whose pocket are 
the thirty pieces of silver, and whose garments are stain- 
ed with the blood of innocence % 

It is hoped that the perusal of the following Narrative 
may increase the sympathy that is felt for the suffering 
colored population of this country, and inspire to re- 
newed efforts for the liberation of all who are pining in 

bondage on the American soil. 

Wm, Lloyd Garrison. 



N A E E A T I V E 



OF 



SOJOURNER TRUTH 



HER BIRTH AND PARENTAGE. 

Tiie subject of this biography, Sojourner Truth, as 
she now calls herself — but whose name, originally, was 
Isabella — was born, as near as she can now calculate, be- 
tween the years 1797 and 1800. She was the daughter 
of James and Betsey, slaves of one Colonel Ardinburgh, 
Hurley, Ulster County, New York. 

Colonel Ardinburgh belonged to that class of people 
called Low Dutch. 

Of her first master, she can give no account, as she 
must have been a mere infant when he died ; and she, 
with her parents and some ten or twelve other fellow hu- 
man chattels, became the legal property of his son, 
Charles Ardinburgh. She distinctly remembers hearing 
her father and mother say, that their lot was a fortunate 
one, as Master Charles was the best of the family, — be- 
ing, comparatively speaking, a kind master to his slav 

James and Betsey having, by their faithfulness, docil- 
ity, and respectful behavior, won his particular regard, 

13 



14: NARRATIVE OF 

received from him particular favors — among which was 
a lot of land, lying back on the slope of a mountain, 
where, by improving the pleasant evenings and Sundays, 
they managed to raise a little tobacco, corn, or flax; 
which they exchanged for extras, in the articles of food or 
clothing for themselves and children. She has no remem- 
brance that Saturday afternoon was ever added to their 
own time, as it is by some masters in the Southern States. 



ACCOMMODATIONS. 

Among Isabella's earliest recollections was the removal 
of her master, Charles Ardinburgh, into his new house, 
which he had built for a hotel, soon after the decease of 
his father. A cellar, under this hotel, was assigned to. his 
slaves, as their sleeping apartment, — all the slaves he 
possessed, of both sexes, sleeping (as is quite common in 
a state of slavery) in the same room. She carries in her 
mind, to this day, a vivid picture of this dismal chamber ; 
its only lights consisting of a few panes of glass, through 
which she thinks the sun never shone, but with thrice re- 
flected rays ; and the space between the loose boards of 
the floor, and the uneven earth below, was often filled 
with mud and water, the uncomfortable splashings of 
which were as annoying as its noxious vapors must have 
been chilling and fatal to health. She shudders, even 
now, as she goes back in memory, and revisits this cellar, 
and sees its inmates, of both sexes and all ages, sleeping 
on those damp boards, like the horse, with a little straw 
and a blanket ; and she wonders not at the rheumatisms, 
and fever-sores, and palsies, that distorted the limbs and 
racked the bodies of those fellow-slaves in after-life. 



BOJOUBNEB TRUTH. 15 

Still, she does not attribute this cruelty — for cruelty it 
ainly is, to be bo unmindful of the health and comfort 
of any being, Leaving entirely out of sight his more im- 
portant part, his everlasting interests, — so much to any 
innate or constitutional cruelty of the master, as to that 
.ntic inconsistency, that inherited habit among slave- 
holders, of expecting* a willing and intelligent obedience 
from the slave, because he is a man — at the same time 
every thing belonging to the soul-harrowing system does 
its best to crush the last vestige of a man within him ; 
and when it is crushed, and often before, he is denied the 
comforts of life, on the plea that he knows neither the 
want nor the use of them, and because he is considered 
to be little more or little less than a beast. 

HER BROTHERS AND SISTERS. 

1 jabella's father was very tall and straight, when young, 
which gave him the name of ' Bomefree ' — low Dutch for 
tree — at least, this is Sojourner's pronunciation of it — 
and by this name he usually went. The most familiar 
appellation of her mother was ' Mau-mau Bett.' She was 
the mother of some ten or twelve children ; though So- 
journer is far from knowing the exact number of her 
brothers and sisters ; she being the youngest, save one, 
and all older than herself having been sold before her re- 
membrance. She was privileged to behold six of them 
while she remained a slave. 

Of the two that immediately preceded her in age, a 
1 k y of five years, and a girl of three, who were sold 
when she was an infant, she heard much ; and she wishes 
that all who would fain believe that slave parents have 
not natural affection for their offspring could have listen 



16 NARRATIVE OF 

ed as she did, while Bomefree and Mau-mau Bett, — their 
dark cellar lighted by a blazing pine-knot, — would sit for 
hours, recalling and recounting every endearing, as well 
as harrowing circumstance that taxed memory could 
supply, from the histories of those dear departed ones, of 
whom they had been robbed, and for whom their hearts 
still bled. Among the rest, they would relate how the 
little boy, on the last morning he was with them, arose 
with the birds, kindled a fire, calling for his Mau-mau to 
* come, for all was now ready for her ' — little dreaming 
of the dreadful separation which was so near at hand, but 
of which his parents had an uncertain, but all the more 
cruel foreboding. There was snow on the ground, at the 
time of which we are speaking ; and a large old-fashioned 
sleigh was seen to drive up to the door of the late Col. 
Ardinburgh. This event was noticed with childish pleas- 
ure by the unsuspicious boy ; but when he was taken and 
put into the sleigh, and saw his little sister actually shut 
and locked into the sleigh box, his eyes were at once 
opened to their intentions ; and, like a frightened deer, 
he sprang from the sleigh, and running into the house, 
concealed himself under a bed. But this availed him lit- 
tle. He was re-conveyed to the sleigh, and separated for 
ever from those whom God had constituted his natural 
guardians and protectors, and who should have found 
him, in return, a stay and a staff to them in their declin- 
ing years. But I make no comments on facts like these, 
knowing that the heart of every slave parent will make 
its own comments, involuntarily and correctly, as soon 
as each heart shall make the case its own. Those who 
are not parents will draw their conclusions from the 
promptings of humanity and philanthropy: — these, en- 
lightened by reason and revelation, are also unerring. 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 17 



HER RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

Isabella and Peter, her youngest brother, remained, 
with their parents, the legal property of Charles Ardin- 
burgh till his decease, which took place when Isabella was 
near nine years old. 

After this event, she was often surprised to find her 
mother in tears ; and when, in her simplicity, she inquired, 
4 Mau-mau, what makes you cry V she would answer, ' Oh 
my child, I am thinking of your brothers and sisters that 
have been sold away from me.' And she would proceed 
to detail many circumstances respecting them. But 
Isabella long since concluded that it was the impending 
fate of her only remaining children, which her mother but 
too well understood, even then, that called up those mem- 
ories from the past, and made them crucify her heart 
afresh. 

In the evening, when her mother's work was done, she 
would sit down under the sparkling vault of heaven, and 
calling her children to her, would talk to them of the only 
Being that could effectually aid or protect them. Her 
teachings were delivered in Low Dutch, her only language, 
and, translated into English, ran nearly as follows : — 

4 My children, there is a God, who hears and sees you.' 
* A God, mau-mau ! Where does he live V asked the 
children. ' He lives in the sky,' she replied ; ■ and when 
you are beaten, or cruelly treated, or fall into any trouble, 
you must ask help of him, and he will always hear and 
help you.' She taught them to kneel and say the Lord's 
prayer. She entreated them to refrain from lying and 
stealing, and to strive to obey their masters. 

At times, a groan would escape her, and she would 
2* 



18 NARRATIVE OF 

break cut In the language of the Psalmist — ' Oh Lord, how 
long V ' Oh Lord, how long?' And in reply to Isabella's 
question — 'What ails you, mau-mau?' her only answer 
was, ' Oh, a good deal ails me' — ' Enough ails me.' Then 
again, she would point them to the stars, and say, in her 
peculiar language, ' Those are the same stars, and that is 
the same moon, that look down upon your brothers and 
sisters, and which they see as they look up to them, though 
they are ever so far away from us, and each other.' 

Thus, in her humble way, did she endeavor to show 
them their Heavenly Father, as the only being who could 
protect them in their perilous condition ; at the same time, 
she would strengthen and brighten the chain of family 
affection, which she trusted extended itself sufficiently to 
connect the widely scattered members of her precious 
flock. These instructions of the mother were treasured 
up and held sacred by Isabella, as our future narrative 
will show. 



THE AUCTION. 

At length, the never-to be-forgotten clay of the terrible 
auction arrived, when the ' slaves, horses, and other cattle' 
of Charles Ardinburgh, deceased, were to be put under 
the hammer, and again change masters. Not only Isabella 
and Peter, but their mother, was now destined to the 
auction block, and would have been struck off with the 
rest to the highest bidder, but for the following circum- 
stance : A question arose among the heirs, ' Who shall be 
burdened with Bomefree, when we have sent away his 
faithful Mau-mau Bett V He was becoming weak and in- 
firm ; his limbs were painfully rheumatic and distorted — 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 19 

re from exposure and hardship than from old age, 
\2,\\ he was several years older than Mau-mau Bett : 
he was no longer considered of value, but must soon be a 
burden and care to some one. After some contention on 
the point at issue, none being willing to be burdened with 
him, it was fmal 1 y agreed, as most expedient for the heirs, 
that the price of Mau-mau Bett should be sacrificed, and 
she receive her freedom, on condition that she take care 
» f and support her faithful James, — faithful, not only 
t her as a husband, but proverbially faithful as a slave 
to those who would not willingly sacrifice a dollar foi- 
l's comfort, now that he had commenced his descent into 
the dark vale of decrepitude and suffering. This import- 
ant decision was received as joyful news indeed to our an- 
cient couple, who were the objects of it, and who were try- 
ing to prepare their hearts for a severe struggle, and one 
altogether new to them, as they had never before been 
separated ; for, though ignorant, helpless, crushed in spirit, 
and weighed clown with hardship and cruel bereavement, 
they were still human, and their human hearts beat within 
them with as true an affection as ever caused a human 
heart to beat. And their anticipated separation now, in 
the decline of life, after the last child had been torn from 
them, must have been truly appalling. Another privilege 
was granted them — that of remaining occupants of the 
same dark, humid cellar I have before described : other- 
wise, they were to support themselves as they best could. 
And as her mother was still able to do considerable work, 
and her father a little, they got on for some time very 
comfortably. The strangers who rented the house were 
humane peojrie, and very kind to them ; they were not 
rich, and owned no slaves. How long this state of things 
turned, we are unable to say, as Isabella had not then 



20 NARRATIVE OF 

sufficiently cultivated her organ of time to calculate years, 
or even weeks or hours. But she thinks her mother must 
have lived several years after the death of Master Charles. 
She remembers going to visit her parents some three or 
four times before the death of her mother, and a good 
deal of time seemed to her to intervene between each 

visit. 

At length her mother's health began to decline — a 
fever-sore made its ravages on one of her limbs, and the 
palsy began to shake her frame; still, she and James 
tottered about, picking up a little here and there, which, 
added to the mites contributed by their kind neighbors, 
sufficed to sustain life, and drive famine from the door. 



DEATH OF MAU-MAU BETT. 

One morning, in early autumn, (from the reason above 
mentioned, we cannot tell what year,) Mau-mau Bett told 
James she would make him a loaf of rye-bread, and get 
Mrs. Simmons, their kind neighbor, to bake it for them, 
as she would bake that forenoon. James told her he had 
engaged to rake after the cart for his neighbors that morn- 
ing ; but before he commenced, he would pole off some 
apples from a tree near, which they were allowed to 
gather ; and if she could get some of them baked with 
the bread, it would give it a nice relish for their dinner. 
He beat off the apples, and soon after, saw Mau-mau 
Bett come out and gather them up. 

At the blowing of the horn for dinner, he groped his 
way into his cellar, anticipating his humble, but warm 
and nourishing meal ; when, lo ! instead of being cheered 
by the sight and odor of fresh-baked bread and the savory 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 21 

apples, bus cellar seemed more cheerless than usual, and 
at first neither sight nor sound met eye or ear. But, on 
groping his way through the room, his staff, which he 
used as a pioneer to go before, and warn him of danger, 
seemed to be impeded in its progress, and a low, gurgling, 
choking sound proceeded from the object before him, 
giving him the first intimation of the truth as it was, that 
Mau-mau Bett, his bosom companion, the only remaining 
member of his large family, had fallen in a fit of the 
palsy, and lay helpless and senseless on the earth ! Who 
among us, located in pleasant homes, surrounded with 
every comfort, and so many kind and sympathizing 
friends, can picture to ourselves the dark and desolate 
state of poor old James — penniless, weak, lame, and near- 
ly blind, as he was at the moment he found his compa- 
nion was removed from him, and he was left alone in the 
world, with no one to aid, comfort, or console him 1 for 
she never revived again, and lived only a few hours after 
being discovered senseless by her poor bereaved James. 



LAST DAYS OF BOMEFREE. 

Isabella and Peter were permitted to see the remains 
of their mother laid in their last narrow dwelling, and to 
make their bereaved father a little visit, ere they returned 
to their servitude. And most piteous were the lamenta- 
tions of the poor old man, when, at last, they also were 
obliged to bid him " Farewell !" Juan Fernandes, on his 
desolate island, was not so pitiable an object as this poor 
lame man. Blind and crippled, he was too superannuated 
to think for a moment of taking care of himself, and he 
greatly feared no persons would interest themselves in 



22 NARRATIVE OF 

his behalf. ' Oh,' he would exclaim, ' I had thought God 
would take me first, — Mau-mau was so much smarter 
than I, and could get about and take care of herself; — 
and I am so old, and so helpless. What is to become of 
me? I can't do any thing more — my children are all 
gone, and here I am left helpless and alone.' ' And then, 
as I was taking leave of him,' said his daughter, in relat- 
ing it, ' he raised his voice, and cried aloud like a child — 
Ok, how he did cry ! I hear it now — and remember it as 
well as if it were but yesterday — poor old man ! ! ! He 
thought God had done it all — and my heart bled within 
me at the sight of his misery. He begged me to get per- 
mission to come and see him sometimes, which I readily 
and heartily promised him.' But when all had left him, 
the Ardinburghs, having some feeling left for their faith- 
ful and favorite slave, ' took turns about' in keeping him 
— permitting him to stay a few weeks at one house, and 
then a while at another, and so around. If, when he made 
a removal, the place where he was going was not too far 
off, he took up his line of march, staff in hand, and asked 
for no assistance. If it was twelve or twenty miles, they 
gave him a ride. While he was living in tins way, Isa- 
bella was twice permitted to visit him. Another time 
she walked twelve miles, and carried her infant in her 
arms to see him, but when she reached the place where 
she hoped to find him, he had just left for a place some 
twenty miles distant, and she never saw him more. The 
last time she did see him, she found him seated on a rock, 
by the-road side, alone, and far from any house. He 
was then migrating from the house of one Ardinburgh 
to that of another, several miles distant. His hair was 
white like wool — he was almost blind — and his gait was 
more a creep than a walk — but the weather was warm 



SOJOURNER TKUTII. 23 

and pleasant, and he did not dislike the journey. \\ hen 
Isabella addressed him, he recognized her voice, and was 

exceeding glad to see her. lie was assisted to mount 
the wagon, was carried back to the famous cellar of 
which we have spoken, and there they held their last 
earthly conversation. He again, as usual, bewailed his 
loneliness, — spoke in tones of anguish of his many chil- 
dren, saying, "They are all taken av.ay from me! I have 
now not one to give me a cup of cold water — why should 
I live and not die \ n Isabella, whose heart yearned over 
her lather, and who would have made any sacrifice to 
have been able to be with, and take care of him, tried to 
comfort, by telling him that ' she had heard the white 
folks sav, that all the slaves in the State would be freed 
in ten years, and that then she would come and take care 
of him.' ' I would take just as good care of you as Mau- 
mau would, if she was here' — continued Isabel. ' Oh, my 
child,' replied he, ' I cannot live that long.' ' Oh do, dad- 
dy, do live, and I will take such good care of you,' was her 
rejoinder. She now says, ' Why, I thought then, in my 
ignorance, that he could live, if he would. I just as much 
thought so, as I ever thought any thing in my life — and 1 
insisted on his living : but he shook his head, and insisted 
he could not.' 

But before Bomefree's good constitution would yield 
either to age, exposure, or a strong desire to die, the Ar- 
dinburghs again tired of him, and offered freedom to two 
old slaves — Csesar, brother of Mau-mau Bett, and his 
wife Betsey — on condition that they should take care of 
James. (I was about to say, ' their brother-in-law' — but a s 
slaves are neither husbands nor wives in law, the idea of 
their being brothers-in-law is truly ludicrous.) And al- 
though they were too old and infirm to take care of them- 



24 NARRATIVE OF 

selves, (Caesar having been afflicted for a long time with 
fever-sores, and his wife with the jaundice,) they eagerly 
accepted the boon of freedom, which had been the life-long 
desire of their souls — though at a time when emancipa- 
tion was to them little more than destitution, and was a 
freedom more to be desired by the master than the slave. 
Sojourner declares of the slaves in their ignorance, that 
4 their thoughts are no longer than her finger.' 



DEATH OF BOMEFREE. 

A rude cabin, in a lone wood, for from any neighbors, 
was granted to our freed friends, as the only assistance 
they were now to expect. Bomefree, from this time, 
found his poor needs hardly supplied, as his new providers 
were scarce able to administer to their own wants. How- 
ever, the time drew near when things were to be decidedly 
worse rather than better ; for they had not been together 
long, before Betty died, and shortly after, Caesar followed 
her to ' that bourne from whence no traveller returns' — 
leaving poor James again desolate, and more helpless 
than ever before ; as, this time, there was no kind family 
in the house, and the Ardinburghs no longer invited him 
to their homes. Yet, lone, blind and helpless as he was, 
James for a time lived on. One day, an aged colored 
woman, named Soan, called at his shanty, and James be- 
sought her, in the most moving manner, even with tears, 
to tarry awhile and wash and mend him up, so that he 
might once more be decent and comfortable ; for he was 
suffering dreadfully with the filth and vermin that had 
collected upon him. 

Soan was herself an emancipated slave, old and weak, 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 25 

with no one to care for herj and she lacked the courage 
to undertake a job of such seeming magnitude, fearing she 
might herself gel sick, and perish there without assistance ; 
and with great reluctance, and a heart swelling with pity, 
as she afterwards declared, she felt obliged to leave him in 
his wretchedness and tilth. And shortly after her visit, this 
faithful slave, this deserted wreck of humanity, was found 
en his miserable pallet, frozen and stiff in death. The kind 
angel had come at la->t. and relieved him of the many mise- 
ries that his fellow-man had heaped upon him. Yes, he 
had died, chilled and starved, with none to speak a kindly 
word, or do a kindly deed for him, in that last dread hour 
of need ! 

The news of his death reached the ears of John Ardin- 
burgh, a grandson of the old Colonel ; and he declared 
that ' Bomefree, who had ever been a kind and faithful 
slave, should now have a good funeral.' And now, gentle 
reader, what think you constituted a good funeral ] An- 
swer — some black paint for the coffin, and — a jug of ar- 
dent spirits ! What a compensation for a life of toil, of 
patient submission to repeated robberies of the most ag- 
gravated kind, and, also, far more than murderous neg- 
lect ! ! Mankind often vainly attempt to atone for un- 
kindness or cruelty to the living, by honoring the same 
after death ; but John Ardinburgh undoubtedly meant 
his pot of paint and jug of whisky should act as an opiate 
on his slaves, rather than on his own seared conscience. 



COMMENCEMENT OF ISABELLA'S TRIALS IN LIFE. 

Having seen the sad end of her parents, so far as it 
relates to this earthly life, we will return with Isabella to 



26 NARRATIVE OF 

that memorable auction which threatened to separate her 
father and mother. A slave auction is a terrible affair to 
its victims, and its incidents and consequences are graven 
on their hearts as with a pen of burning steel. 

At this memorable time, Isabella was struck off, for the 
sum of one hundred dollars, to one John Nealy, of Ulster 
County, New York ; and she has an impression that in 
this sale she was connected with a lot of sheep. She was 
now nine years of age, and her trials in life may be dated 
from this period. She says, with emphasis, ' Now the war 
begun.'' She could only talk Dutch — and the Nealys 
could only talk English. Mr. Nealy could understand 
Dutch, but Isabel and her mistress could neither of them 
understand the language of the other — and this, of itself, 
was a formidable obstacle in the way of a good under- 
standing between them, and for some time was a fruitful 
source of dissatisfaction to the mistress, and of punish- 
ment and suffering to Isabella. She says, ' If they sent 
me for a frying-pan, not knowing what they meant, per- 
haps I carried them the pot-hooks and trammels. Then, 
oh ! how angry mistress would be with me V Then she 
suffered 'terribly — terribly J with the cold. During the 
winter her feet were badly frozen, for want of proper 
covering. They gave her a plenty to eat, and also a plenty 
of whippings. One Sunday morning, in particular, she 
was told to go to the barn ; on going there, she found 
her master with a bundle of rods, prepared hi the em- 
bers, and bound together with cords. When he had 
tied her hands together before her, he gave her the most 
cruel whipping she was ever tortured with. He whipped 
her till the flesh was deeply lacerated, and the blood stream. 
ed from her wounds — and the scars remain to the present 
day, to testify to the fact. ' And now,' sh» says, ' when I 



BOJOURNER TRUTH. 27 

hear 'em telJ of whipping women on the bare flesh, it 

makes my flesh crawl, and my very hair rise on my head ! 
Oh! my God !' she continues, ' what a way isthis of treat- 
ing human beings f In these hours of her extremity, 
she did not forget the instructions of her mother, to go to 

God in all her trials, and every affliction ; and she not only 
remembered, but obeyed : going to him, ' and telling him 
all — and asking Him if He thought it was right,' and 
begging him to protect and shield her from her persecu- 
tors. 

She always asked with an unwavering faith that she 
should receive just what she plead for, — ' And now,' she 
says, ' though it seems curious, I do not remember ever 
asking for any thing but what I got it. And I always re- 
ceived it as an answer to my prayers. When I got beaten, 
I never knew ; t long enough beforehand to pray ; and I 
always thought if I only had had time to pray to God for 
help, I should have escaped the beating.' She had no ides. 
God had any knowledge of her thoughts, save what she 
told him ; or heard her prayers, unless they were spoken 
audibly. And consequently, she could not pray unless 
she had time and opportunity to go by herself, where she 
could talk to God without being overheard. 



TRIALS CONTINUED. 

When she had been at Mr. Nealy.'s several months, 
she began to beg God most earnestly to send her father 
to her, and as soon as she commenced to pray, she began 
as confidently to look for his coming, and, ere it was long, 
to her great joy, he came. She had no opportunity to 
speak to him of the troubles that weighed so heavily on 



28 NARRATIVE OF 

her spirit, while h3 remained; but when he left, she fol- 
lowed him to the gate, and unburdened her heart to him, 
inquiring if he could not do something to get her a new 
and better place. In this way the slaves often assist each 
other, by ascertaining who are kind to their slaves, com- 
paratively ; and then using their influence to get such an 
one to hire or buy their friends ; and masters, often from 
policy, as well as from latent humanity, allow those they 
are about to sell or let, to choose their own places, if the 
persons they happen to select for masters are considered 
safe 'pay. He promised to do all he could, and they part- 
ed. But, every day, as long as the snow lasted, (for 
there was snow on the ground at the time,) she returned 
to the spot where they separated, and walking in the 
tracks her father had made in the snow, repeated her 
prayer that * God would help her father get her a new 
and better place.' 

A long time had not elapsed, when a fisherman by the 
name of Scriver appeared at Mr. Nealy's, and inquired 
of Isabel ' if she would like to go and live with him.' 
She eagerly answered * Yes,' nothing doubting but he was 
sent in answer to her prayer ; and she soon started off 
with him, walking while he rode ; for he had bought her 
at the suggestion of her father, paying one hundred and 
five dollars for her. He also lived in Ulster County, but 
some five or six miles from Mr. Nealy's. 

Scriver, besides being a fisherman, kept a tavern for the 
accommodation of people of his own class — for his was a 
rude, uneducated family, exceedingly profane in their 
language, but, on the whole, an honest, kind and well-dis- 
posed people. 

They owned a large farm, but left it wholly unim- 
proved ; attending mainly to their vocations of fishing 



fcJOJOCRNER TRUTH. 29 

and inn-keeping. Isabella declares she can ill describe 
the life she led with them. It was a wild, out-of-door 
kind of lief. She was expected to carry fish, to hoe corn, 
to bring roots and herbs from the wood for beers, go to 
the Strand for a gallon of molasses or liquor as the case 
might require, and ' browse around,' as sho expresses it. 
It was a life that suited her well for the time — being as 
devoid of hardship or terror as it was of improvement ; 
a need which had not yet become a want. Instead of im- 
proving at this place, morally, she retrograded, as theii 
example taught her to curse ; and it was here that she 
took her first oath. After living with them about a year 
and a half, she was sold to one John J. Dumont, for the 
sum of seventy pounds. This was in 1810. Mr. Du- 
mont lived in the same county as her former masters, in 
the town of New Paltz, and she remained with him till a 
short time previous to her emancipation by the State, in 
1828. 



HER STANDING WITH HER NEW MASTER AND 

MISTRESS. 

Had Mrs. Dumont possessed that vein of kindness and 
consideration for the slaves, so perceptible in her hus- 
band's character, Isabella would have been as comforta- 
ble here, as one had best be, if one must be a slave. Mr. 
Dumont had been nursed in the very lap of slavery, and 
being naturally a man of kind feelings, treated his slaves 
with all the consideration he did his other animals, and 
more, perhaps. But Mrs. Dumont, who had been born 
and educated in a non-slaveholding family, and, like many 
others, used only to work-people, who, under the most 



30 NARRATIVE OF 

stimulating of human motives, were willing to put forth 
their every energy, could not have patience with the 
creeping gait, the dull understanding, or see any cause 
for the listless manners and careless, slovenly habits of 
the poor down-trodden outcast — entirely forgetting that 
every high and efficient motive had been removed far 
from him ; and that, had not his very intellect been 
crushed out of him, the slave would find little ground for 
aught but hoj eless despondency. From this source arose 
a long series of trials in the life of our heroine, which we 
must pass over in silence ; some from motives of deli- 
cacy, and others, because the relation of them might 
inflict undeserved pain on some now living, whom Isabel 
remembers only #ith esteem and love; therefore, the 
reader will not be surprised if our narrative appear some- 
what tame at this point, and may rest assured that it is 
not for want of facts, as the most thrilling incidents of 
this portion of her life are from various motives sup- 
pressed. 

One comparatively trifling incident she wishes related, 
as it made a deep impression on her mind at the time — 
showing, as she thinks, how God shields the innocent, and 
causes them to triumph over their enemies, and also how 
she stood between master and mistress. In her family, 
Mrs. Dumont employed two white girls, one of whom, 
named Kate, evinced a disposition to c lord it over' Isabel, 
and, in her emphatic language, ' to grind her down.'' Her 
master often shielded her from the attacks and accusations 
of others, praising her for her readiness and ability to 
work, and these praises seemed to foster a spirit of hos- 
tility to her, in the minds of Mrs. Dumont and her white 
servant, the latter of whom took every opportunity to 
cry up her faults, lessen her in the esteem of her master 



SOJOURNER TBUTH. 31 

a:. 1 increase against her the displeasure ofhermistr< 

which was already more than sufficient for Isabel's com- 
fort. Her master insisted that she could do as much 
w, rk as half a dozen common people, and do it well, too ; 
whilst her mistress insisted that the first was true, only 
because it ever came from her hand hut half performed. 
A aood deal of feeling arose from this difference of opin- 
ion, which was getting to rather an uncomfortable height, 
when, all at once, the potatoes that Isabel cooked fur 
breakfast assumed a dingy, dirty look. Her mistress 
blamed her severely, asking her master to observe ' a fine 
specimen of Bell's work !' — adding, ' it is the way all her 
w.;rk is done.' Her master scolded, also this time, and 
manded her to be more careful in future. Kate join- 
ed with zest in the censures, and was very hard upon her. 
Isabella thought that she had done all she well could tc 
have them nice ; and became quite distressed at these ap 
pearances, and wondered what she should do to avoi<i 
them. In this dilemma, Gertrude Dumont, (Mr. D.'s 
eldest child, a good, kind-hearted girl of ten years, who 
; itied Isabel sincerely,) when she heard them all blame 
her so unsparingly, came forward, offering her sympathy 
and assistance ; and when about to retire to bed, on the 
night of Isabella's humiliation, she advanced to Isabel, and 
told her, if she would wake her early next morning, she 
would get up and attend to her potatoes for her, while 
she (Isabella) went to milking, and they would see if they 
could not have them nice, and not have ' Poppee,' her 
word for father, and ' Matty,' her word for mother, an<_ 
all of 'em, scolding so terribly. 

Isabella gladly availed herself of tins kindness, which 
touched her to the heart, amid so much of an opposite 
spirit. When Isabella had put the potatoes over to bo? 



32 NARRATIVE OF 

Getty told her she would herself tend the fire, while Isa- 
bel milked. She had not long been seated by the fire, 
in performance of her promise, when Kate entered, and 
requested Gertrude to go out of the room and do some- 
thing for her, Tvnich she refused, still keeping her place in 
the corner. While there, Kate came sweeping about the 
fire, caught up a chip, lifted some ashes with it, and dash- 
ed them into the kettle. Now the mystery was solved, 
the plot discovered ! Kate was working a little too fast 
at making her mistress's words good, at showing that 
Mrs. Dumont and herself were on the right side of the 
dispute, and consequently at gaining power over Isabella. 
Yes, she was quite too fast, inasmuch as she had over- 
looked the little figure of justice, which sat in the corner, 
with scales nicely balanced, waiting to give all their dues. 

But the time had come when she was to be overlooked 
no longer. It was Getty's turn to speak now. * Oh, 
Poppee ! oh, Poppee !' said she, ' Kate has been putting 
ashes in among the potatoes ! I saw her do it ! Look at 
those that fell on the outside of the kettle ! You can 
now see what made the potatoes so dingy every morning, 
though Bell washed them clean !' And she repeated her story 
to every new comer, till the fraud was made as public as 
the censure of Isabella had been. Her mistress looked 
blank, and remained dumb — her master muttered some- 
thing which sounded very like an oath — and poor Kate 
was so chop-fallen, she looked like a convicted criminal, 
who would gladly have hid herself, (now that the base- 
ness was out,) to conceal her mortified pride and deep 
chagrin. 

It was a fine triumph for Isabella and her master, and 
she became more ambitious than ever to please him ; 
wid he stimulated her ambition by his commendation, and 



SOJOURNER TRUTH, 33 

boasting of her to his friends, telling them that ' tha 
wench' (pointing to Isabel) ■ is better to me than a mi* 
— for she will do a good family's washing in the nighty 
and be ready in the morning to go into the field, where 
she will do as much at raking and binding as my 1 
hands.' I [er ambition and desire to please were so great, 
that she often worked several nights in succession, sleep- 
h g only short snatches, as she satin her chair; and some 

'its she would not allow herself to take any sleep, save 
what she could get resting herself against the wall, fear- 
ing that if she sat down, she would sleep too long. 
These extra exertions to please, and the praises conse- 
quent upon them, brought upon her head the envy 
of her fellow-slaves, and they taunted her with being 
the ' white folks' nigger.'' On the other hand, she receiv- 
ed a larger share of the confidence of her master, 
and many small favors that were by them unattain- 
able. I asked her if her master, Dumont, ever whipped 
her ? She answered, ' Oh yes, he sometimes whipped me 
soundly, though never cruelly. And the most severe 
whipping he ever give me was because / was cruel to a 
cat.' At this time she looked upon her master as a God ; 
and believed that he knew of and could see her at all 
times, even as God himself. And she used sometimes to 
confess her delinquencies, from the conviction that he al- 
ready knew them, and that she should fare better if she 
confessed voluntarily : and if any one talked to her of 
the injustice of her being a slave, she answered them 
w ith contempt and immediately told her master. She 
then firmly believed that slavery was right and honora- 
ble. Yet she now sees very clearly the false position 
they were all in, both masters and slaves ; and she looks 
back, with utter astoi ishment, at the absurdity of the 
3 



34 NARRATIVE OF 

claims so arrogantly set up by the masters, over beings 
designed by God to be as free as kings ; and at the per- 
fect stupidity of the slave, in admitting for one moment 
the validity of these claims. 

In obedience to her mother's instructions, she had edu- 
cated herself to such a sense of honesty, that, when she 
had become a mother, she would sometimes whip her 
child when it cried to her for bread, rather than give it a 
piece secretly, lest it should learn to take what was not 
its own ! And the writer of this knows, from personal 
observation, that the slaveholders of the South feel it to 
be a religious duty to teach their slaves to be honest, and 
never to take what is not their own ! Oh consistency, 
art thou not a jewel ? Yet Isabella glories in the fact 
that she was faithful and true to her master ; she says, 
* It made me true to my God' — meaning, that it helped to 
form in her a character that loved truth, and hated a lie, 
and had saved her from the bitter pains and fears that 
are sure to follow in the wake of insincerity and hypocrisy. 
As she advanced in years, an attachment sprung up 
between herself and a slave named Robert. But his 
master, an Englishman by the name of Catlin, anxious 
that no one's property but his own should be enhanced 
by the increase of his slaves, forbade Robert's visits to 
Isabella, and commanded him to take a wife among his 
fellow-servants. Notwithstanding this interdiction, Rob- 
ert, following the bent of his inclinations, continued his 
visits to Isabel, though very stealthily, and, as he believ- 
ed, without exciting the suspicion of his master ; but one 
Saturday afternoon, hearing that Bell was ill, he took the 
liberty to go and see her. The first intimation she had 
of Ins visit was the appearance of her master, inquiring 
if she had seen Bob.' On her answering in the negative, 



SOJOl'KNKH TRUTH. 35 

he said to her, ' It* you see him, tell him to take care of 
himself, tor the Cat Tins are after him.' Almost at that 

instant, Bob made his appearance; and the first people he 

met were his old and his young masters. They were 
terribly enraged at finding him there, and the eldest be- 
gan cursing, and calling upon his son to ' Knock down 
the d QWV SMaek rascal ;' at the same time, they both 
fell upon him Like tigers, beating him with the heavy 
ends of their canes, bruising and mangling his head and 
fece in the most awful manner, and causing the blood, 
which streamed from his wounds, to cover him like a 
slaughtered beast, constituting him a most shocking spec- 
tacle. Mr. Dumont interposed at this point, telling the 
ruffians they could no longer thus spill humau blood on 
his premises — he would have ' no niggers killed there.' 
The Catlins then took a rope they had taken with them 
for the purpose, and tied Bob's hands behind him hi such 
a manner, that Mr. Dumont insisted on loosening the 
cord, declaring that no brute should be tied in that man- 
ner, where he was. And as they led him away, like the 
greatest of criminals, the more humane Dumont followed 
them to their homes, as Robert's protector ; and when 
he returned, he kindly went to Bell, as he called her, tell- 
ing her he did not think they would strike him any more, as 
their wrath had greatly cooled before he left them. Isa- 
bella had witnessed this scene from her window, and was 
greatly shocked at the murderous treatment of poor 
Robert, whom she truly loved, and whose only crime, in 
the eye of his persecutors, was his affection for her. This 
beating, and we know not what after treatment, com- 
pletely subdued the spirit of its victim, for Robert ven- 
tured no more to visit Isabella, but like an obedient and 
faithful chattel, took himself a wife from the house of 



36 NARRATIVE OF 

his master. Eobert did not live many years after his 
last visit to Isabel, but took his departure to that coun- 
try, where { they neither marry nor are given in marriage,' 
and where the oppressor cannot molest. 



ISABELLA'S MARRIAGE. 

Subsequently, Isabella was married to a fellow-slave, 
named Thomas, who had previously had two wives, one 
of whom, if not both, had been torn from him and sold 
far away. And it is more than probable, that he was 
not only allowed but encouraged to take another at each 
successive sale. I say it is probable, because the writer 
of this knows from personal observation, that such is 
the custom among slaveholders at the present day ; and 
that in a twenty months' residence amorig them, we never 
knew any one to open the lip against the practice ; and 
when we severely censured it, the slaveholder had nothing 
to say ; and the slave pleaded that, under existing cir- 
cumstances, he could do no better. 

Such an abominable state of things is silently tolerated, 
to say the least, by slaveholders — deny it who may. 
And what is that religion that sanctions, even by its 
silence, all that is embraced in the ' Peculiar Institution V 
If there can be any thing more diametrically opposed to 
the religion of Jesus, than the working of this soul-kill- 
ing system — which is as truly sanctioned by the religion 
of America as are her ministers and churches — we wish 
to be shown where it can be found. 

We have said, Isabella was married to Thomas — she 
was, after the fashion of slavery, one of the slaves per- 
forming the ceremony for them ; as no true minister of 



BOJOURNEK TRUTH. 37 

Christ dvt perform, as in the presence of God, what he 
knows to be a hut.' faree : a mock marriage, unrecognized 
by any civil law, and liable t<> be annulled any moment, 
when the interest or caprice of the master should dictate. 

With what feelings must slaveholders expect us to 
listen to their horror of amalgamation in prospect, while 
they are well aware that we know how calmly and qui- 
etly they contemplate the present state of licentiousness 
i heir own wicked laws have created, not only as it regards 
the slave, but as it regards the more privileged portion 
of the population of the South 1 

Slaveholders appear to me to take the same notice of 
the vices of the slave, as one does of the vicious disposi- 
tion of his horse. They are often an inconvenience ; fur- 
ther than that, they care not to trouble themselves tfbout 
the matter. 



ISABELLA AS A MOTHER. 

In process of time, Isabella found herself the mother of 
five children, and she rejoiced in being permitted to be 
the instrument of increasing the property of her oppres- 
sors ! Think, dear reader, without a blush, if you can, 
for one moment, of a mother thus willingly, and with pride, 
laying her own children, the ' flesh of her flesh,' on the 
altar of slavery — a sacrifice to the bloody Moloch ! But 
we must remember that beings capable of such sacrifices 
are not mothers ; they are only ' things,' ' chattels,' ' pro- 
perty.' 

But since that time, the subject of this narrative has 
made some advances from a state of chattelism towards 
that of a woman and a mother ; and she now looks back 
upon her thoughts and feelings there, in her state of igno- 



38 NARRATIVE OF 

ranee and degradation, as one does on the dark imagery 
of a fitful dream. One moment it seems but a frightful 
illusion ; again it appears a terrible reality. I would to 
God it were but a dreamy myth, and not, as it now stands, 
a horrid reality to some three millions of chattelized hu- 
man beings. 

I have already alluded to her care not to teach her chil- 
dren to steal, by her example ; and she says, with groan- 
ings that cannot be written, l The Lord only knows how 
many times I let my children go hungry, rather than take 
secretly the bread I liked not to ask for.' All parents 
who annul their preceptive teachings by their daily prac- 
tices would do well to profit by her example. 

Another proof of her master's kindness of heart is found 
in the following fact. If her master came into the house 
and found her infant crying, (as she could not always at- 
tend to its wants and the commands of her mistress at 
the same time,) he would turn to his wife with a look of 
reproof, and ask her why she did not see the child taken 
care of; saying, most earnestly, ' I will not hear this cry- 
ing ; I can 't bear it, and I will not hear any child cry so. 
Here, Bell, take care of this child, if no more work is 
done for a week.' And he would linger to see if his or- 
ders were obeyed, and not countermanded. 

When Isabella went to the field to work, she used to 
put her infant in a basket, tying a rope to each handle, 
and suspending the basket to a branch of a tree, set ano- 
ther small child to swing it. It was thus secure from rep- 
tiles, and was easily administered to, and even lulled to 
sleep, by a child too young for other labors. I was quite 
struck with the ingenuity of such a baby-tender, as I have 
sometimes been with the swinging hammock the native 
mother prepares for her sick infant — apparently so much 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 39 

ttsiei than aught we have ID our more civilized hemes; 
easier for the child, because it gets the motion without 
the least jar ; and easier for the nurse, because the ham- 
mock is strung so high as to supersede the necessity of 
stooping. 



slaveholder's PROMISES. 

After emancipation had been decreed by the State, 
some years before the time fixed for its consummation, 
Isabella's master told her if she would do well, and be 
faithful, he would give her ' free papers,' one year before 
she was legally free by statute. In the year 1826, she 
had a badly diseased hand, which greatly diminished her 
usefulness ; but on the arrival of July 4, 1827, the time 
specified for her receiving her ' free papers,' she claimed the 
fulfilment of her master's promise ; but he refused grant- 
ing it, on account (as he alleged) of the loss he had sus- 
tained by her hand. She plead that she had worked all 
the time, and done many things she was not wholly able 
to do, although she knew she had been less useful than 
formerly; but her master remained inflexible. Her very 
faithfulness probably operated against her now, and he 
found it less easy than he thought to give up the promts 
of his faithful Bell, who had so long done him efficient 
service. 

But Isabella inwardly determined that she would re. 
main quietly with him only until she liad spun his wool 
— about one hundred pounds — and then she would leave 
him, taking the rest of the time to herself. * Ah !' she 
says, with emphasis that cannot be written, ' the slave- 
holders are terrible for promising to give you this or 



40 NARRATIVE OP 

that, or such and such a privilege, if you will do thus aud 
so ; and when the time of fulfilment comes, and one 
claims the promise, they, forsooth, recollect nothing of 
the kind ; and you are, like as not, taunted with being a 
liar ; or, at best, the slave is accused of not having per- 
formed his part or condition of the contract.' ' Oh !' said 
she, ' I have felt as if I could not live through the opera- 
tion sometimes. Just think of us ! so eager for our plea- 
sures, and just foolish enough to keep feeding and feeding 
ourselves up with the idea that we should get what had 
been thus fairly promised ; and when we think it is 
almost in our hands, find ourselves flatly denied ! Just 
think ! how could we bear it ? Why, there was Charles 
Brodhead promised his slave Ned, that when harvesting 
was over, he might go and see his wife, who lived some 
twenty or thirty miles off. So Ned worked early and 
late, and as soon as the harvest was all in, he claimed the 
promised boon. His master said, he had merely told 
him he ' would see if he could go, when the harvest was 
over ; but now he saw that he could not go? But Ned, 
who still claimed a positive promise, on which he had 
fully depended, went on cleaning his shoes. His master 
asked him if he intended going, and on his replying 'yes ,' 
took up a sled-stick that lay near him, and gave him such 
a blow on the head as broke his skull, killing him dead 
on the spot. The poor colored people all felt struck 
down by the blow.' Ah ! and well they might. Yet it 
was but one of a long series of bloody, and other most 
effectual blows, struck against their liberty and their 
lives.* But to return from our digression. 
The subject of tins narrative T as to have been free 

* Yet no official notice was taken of his more than brutal mu> 
cler. 



SOJOURNER i K( i ir. 41 

July 4, 1827, but she continued with her master till the 
wool was spun, and the heaviest of the 'fall's work' 
closed up, when she concluded to lake her freedom into 

her own hands, and sock her fortune in some other place. 



J I Eli ESCAPE. 

The question in her mind, and one not easily solved, 
now was, 'How ran I get away V So, as was her usual 
custom, she c told God she was afraid to go in the night, 
and in the day every body would see her.' At length, 
the thought came to her that she could leave just before 
the day dawned, and get out of the neighborhood where 
she was known before the people were much astir. 
' Yes,' said she, fervently, 'that's a good thought ! Thank 
you, God, for that thought !' So, receiving it as coming 
direct from God, she acted upon it, and one fine morning, 
a little before day-break, she might have been seen step- 
ping stealthily away from the rear of Master Dumont's 
house, her infant on one arm and her wardrobe on the 
other ; the bulk and weight of which, probably, she never 
found so convenient as on the present occasion, a cotton 
handkerchief containing both her clothes and her pro- 
visions. 

As she gained the summit of a high hill, a considerable 
distance from her master's, the sun offended her by com- 
ing forth in all his pristine splendor. She thought it 
never was so light before ; indeed, she thought it much 
too light. She stopped to look about her, and ascertain 
if her pursuers were yet in sight. No one appeared, and, 
for the first time, the question came up for settlement, 
' Where, and to whom, shall I go V In all her thoughts 
">f getting away, she had not once asked herself whither 



42 NARRATIVE OF 

she should direct her steps. She sat down, fed her infant, 
and again turning her thoughts to God, her only help, she 
prayed him to direct her to some safe asylum. And soon 
it occurred to her, that there was a man living some- 
where in the direction she had been pursuing, by the 
name of Levi Rowe, w r hom she had known, and who, she 
thought, would be likely to befriend her. She accord- 
ingly pursued her way to his house, where she found him 
ready to entertain and assist her, though he was then on 
his death-bed. He bade her partake of the hospitalities 
of his house, said he knew of two good places where she 
might get in, and requested his wife to show her where 
they were to be found. As soon as she came in sight of 
the first house, she recollected having seen it and its inhab- 
itants before, and instantly exclaimed, ' That's the place 
for me ; I shall stop there.' She went there, and found 
the good people of the house, Mr. and Mrs. Van Wage- 
ner, absent, but was kindly received and hospitably en- 
tertained by their excellent mother, till the return of her 
children. When they arrived, she made her case known 
to them. They listened to her story, assuring her they 
never turned the needy away, and willingly gave her 
employment. 

She had not been there long before her old master, Du- 
mont, appeared, as she had anticipated ; for when she 
took French leave of him, she resolved not to go too far 
from him, and not put him to as much trouble in looking 
her up — for the latter he was sure to do — as Tom and 
Jack had done when they ran away from him, a short 
time before. This was very considerate in her, to say 
the least, and a proof that ' like begets like.' He had 
often considered her feelings, though not always, and she 
was equally considerate. 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 43 

When her master saw her, he said, 'Well, Bell, so 
you've run awa\ from me.' ' No, I did not run away ; I 
walked away by day-light, and all because you had pro- 
mised me a year of my time.' His reply was, 'You 
must go bark with me.' Her decisive answer was, ' No, 
I w<mU go back with you.' He said, ' Well, I shall take 
the child.* TMi also was as stoutly negatived. 

Mr. Isaac S. Van Wagener then interposed, saying, he 
had never been in the practice of buying and selling slaves ; 
he did not believe in slavery ; but, rather than have Isa- 
bella taken back by force, he would buy her services for 
the balance of the year — for which her master charged 
twenty dollars, and live in addition for the child. The 
sum was paid, and her master Duinont departed ; but not 
till he had heard Mr. Van Wagener tell her not to call 
him master, — adding, ' there is out one master ; and he 
who is your master is my master.' Isabella inquired what 
she should call him ? He answered, ' Call me Isaac Van 
Wagener, and my wife is Maria Van Wagener.' Isa- 
bella could not understand this, and thought it a 
mighty change, as it most truly was from a master 
whose word was law, to simple Isaac S. Van Wage- 
ner, who was master to no one. With these noble 
people, who, though they could not be the masters of 
slaves, were undoubtedly a portion of God's nobility, she 
resided one year, and from them she derived the name of 
Van Wagener ; he being her last master in the eye of 
the law, and a slave's surname is ever the same as his 
master ; that is, if he is allowed to have any other name 
than Tom, Jack, or Gufiin. Slaves have sometimes been 
severely punished for adding their master's name to their 
own. But when they have no particular title to it, it is 
no particular offence. 



44 NARRATIVE OF 



ILLEGAL SALE OF HER SON. 

A little previous to Isabel's leaving her old master, he 
had sold her child, a boy of five years, to a Dr. Ged- 
ney, who took him with him as far as New York city, on 
his way to England ; but finding the boy too small for 
nis service, he sent him back to his brother, Solomon 
Gedney. This man disposed of him to his sister's hus- 
oand, a wealthy planter, by the name of Fowler, who 
took him to his own home in Alabama. 

Tins illegal and fraudulent transaction had been perpe- 
trated some months before Isabella knew of it, as she was 
now living at Mr. Van Wagener's. The law expressly 
prohibited the sale of any slave out of the State, — and 
all minors were to be free at twenty-one years of age ; 
and Mr. Dumont had sold Peter with the express under- 
standing, that he was soon to return to the State of New 
York, and be emancipated at the specified time. 

When Isabel heard that her son had been sold South, 
she immediately started on foot and alone, to find the 
man who had thus dared, in the face of all law, human 
and divine, to sell her child out of the State ; and if pos- 
sible, to bring him to account for the deed. 

Arriving at New Paltz, she went directly to her former 
mistress, Dumont, complaining bitterly of the removal 
of her son. Her mistress heard her through, and then re- 
plied — ' Ugh ! a fine fuss to make about a little nigger ! 
Why, have n't you as many of 'em left as you can see to 
and take care of? A pity 'tis, the niggers are not all in 
Guinea ! ! Making such a halloo-balloo about the neigh- 
borhood ; and all for a paltry nigger ! ! ! ' Isabella heard 
her through, and after a moment's hesitation, answered, in 



BOJOuRNEB TRUTH. 45 

tones of deep determination — '/'// have my child again!' 

' Have your child again ! ' repeated her mistress — hertonei 

I ig with contempt, and scorning the absurd idea of her 

ting him. 'How can you gel him I And what have 

you to support him with, if you could ? Have you any 

money?' 'No,' answered Bell, 'I Lave no money, but 

God has enough, or what's better! And I'll have my 

child again.' These words were pronounced in the most 

v, solemn and determined measure and manner. And 

in speaking of it, she says, ' Oh, my God ! I know'd I'd 

have him agin. I was sure God would help me to get 

him. Why, I felt so tall within — I felt as if the power of 

■ > a (ion was with me ! ' 

The impressions made by Isabella on her auditors, when 
moved by lofty or deep feeling, can never be transmitted 
to paper, (to use the words of another,) till by some Da- 
guerrian art. we are enabled to transfer the look, the ges- 
ture, the tones of voice, in connection with the quaint, yet 
fit expressions used, and the spirit-stirring animation that, 
at such a time, pervades all she says. 

After leaving her mistress, she called on Mrs. Gedney, 
mother of him who had sold her boy ; who, after listening 
to her lamentations, her grief being mingled with indigna- 
at the Sxale of her son, and her declaration that she 
lid have him again — said, ' Dear me ! What a disturb- 
ance to make about your child ! What, is your child bet- 
ter than my child ? My child is gone out there, and yours 
is gone to live with her, to have enough of everything, 
and to be treated like a gentleman ! ' And here she lau^h- 
ed at Isabel's absurd fears, as she would represent them to 
be. 'Yes,' said Isabel, '•your child has gone there, but 
she is married \ and my boy has gone as a slave, and he is 
little to go so far from his mother. Oh, I must have 



46 NARRATIVE OF 

my child.' And here the continued laugh of Mrs. G, 
seemed to Isabel, in this time of anguish and distress, al- 
most demoniacal. And well it was for Mrs. Gedney, that, 
at that time, she could not even dream of the awful fate 
awaiting her own beloved daughter, at the hands of him 
whom she had chosen as worthy the wealth of her love 
and confidence, and in whose society her young heart had 
calculated on a happiness, purer and more elevated than 
was ever conferred by a kingly crown. But, alas ! she 
was doomed to disappointment, as we shall relate by and 
by. At this point, Isabella earnestly begged of God that 
he would show to those about her that He was her helper ; 
and she adds, in narrating, ' And He did ; or, if He did 
n§t show them, he did me.' 



IT IS OFTEN" DARKEST JUST BEFORE DAWN. 

This homely proverb was illustrated in the case of our 
sufferer ; for, at the period at which we have arrived in 
our narrative, to her the darkness seemed palpable, and 
the waters of affliction covered her soul ; yet light was 
about to break in upon her. 

Soon after the scenes related in our last chapter, which 
had harrowed up her very soul to agony, she met a man, 
(we would like to tell you who, dear reader, but it would 
be doing him no kindness, even at the present day, to do 
so,) who evidently sympathized with her, and counselled 
her to go to the Quakers, telling her they were already 
feeling very indignant at the fraudulent sale of her son, 
and assuring her that they would readily assist her, and 
direct her what to do. He pointed out to her two houses, 
where lived some of those people, who formerly, more 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 4» 

than any other sect, perhaps, lived out the principles of 
the gospel o** Christ She wended her way t<> their dwell- 
ings, was listened to, unknown as she personally was to 
them, with patience, and soon gained their sympathies and 

active co-operation. 
They gave her lodgings for the night; and it is very 

amusing to hear her tell of the 'nice, high, clean, white, 
beautiful bed ' assigned her to sleep in, which contrasted 
so strangely with her former pallets, that she sat down and 
contemplated it, perfectly absorbed in wonder that such a 
bed should have been appropriated to one like herself. 
For some time she thought that she would lie down be- 
neath it, on her usual bedstead, the floor. 'I did, indeed,' 
says she, laughing heartily at her former self. However, 
she finally concluded to make use of the bed, for fear that 
not to do so might injure the feelings of her good hostess. 
In the morning, the Quaker saw that she was taken and set 
down near Kingston, with directions to go to the Court 
House, and enter complaint to the Grand Jury. 

By a little inquiry, she found which w r as the building she 
sought, went into the door, and taking the first man she 
saw of imposing appearance for the grand jury, she com- 
menced her complaint. But he very civilly inforn 
her there was no Grand Jury there ; she must go up 
stairs. When she had with some difficulty ascended the 
flight through the crowd that filled them, she again turned 
to the '•grandest'' looking man she could select, telling him 
she had come to enter a complaint to the Grand Jury. 
For his own amusement, he inquired what her complaint 
was ; but, when he saw it was a serious matter, he said to 
her, ' This is no place to enter a complaint — go in there, 
pointing in a particular direction. 

She then went in, where she found the Grand Jurors 



48 NARRATIVE OF 

indeed sitting, and again commenced to relate her injuries. 
After holding some conversation among themselves, one 
of them rose, and bidding her follow him, led the way to 
a side office, where he heard her story, and asked her ( if 
she could swear that the child she spoke of was her son % ' 
1 Yes,' she answered, 'I swear it's my son.' ' Stop, stop ! ' 
said the lawyer, ' you must swear by this book' — giving 
her a book, which she thinks must have been the Bible. 
She took it, and putting it to her lips, began again to swear 
it was her child. The clerks, unable to preserve their grav- 
ity any longer, burst into an uproarious laugh ; and one 
of them inquired of lawyer Chip of what use it could be 
to make her swear. ' It will answer the law,' replied the 
officer. He then made her comprehend just what he 
wished her to do, and she took a lawful oath, as far as the 
outward ceremony could make it one. All can judge how 
far she understood its spirit and meaning. 

He now gave her a writ, directing her to take it to the 
constable of New Paltz, and have him serve it on Solomon 
Gedney. She obeyed, walking, or rather trotting, in her 
haste, some eight or nine miles. 

But while the constable, through mistake, served the 
writ on a brother of the real culprit, Solomon Gedney 
slipped into a boat, and was nearly across the North 
River, on whose banks they were standing, before the dull 
Dutch constable was aware of his mistake. Solomon 
Gedney, meanwhile, consulted a lawyer, who advised him 
to go to Alabama and bring back the boy, otherwise it 
might cost him fourteen years' imprisonment, and a 
thousand dollars in cash. By this time, it is hoped he 
began to feel that selling slaves unlawfully was not so 
good a business as he had wished to find it. He secreted 
himself till due preparations could be made, and soon set 



SOJOUBNEB TRUTH, 49 

sail for Alabama. Steamboats and railroads had not 

Q annihilated distance to the extent they now have, 
and although he leit in the fall of the year, spring came 
ere he returned, bringing the boy with him — but holding 
on to him as Ins property. It had ever been Isabella's 
prayer, not only that her son might be returned, but 
that he should be delivered from bondage, and into her 
own hands, lest he should be punished out of mere spite 
t" her, who was so greatly annoying and irritating to her 
oppressors ; and if her suit was gained, her very triumph 
would add vastly to their irritation. 

She again sought advice of Esquire Chip, whose 
counsel was, that the aforesaid constable serve the before- 
mentioned writ upon the right person. This being done, 
soon brought Solomon Gedney up to Kingston, where he 
gave bonds for his appearance at court, in the sum of 

*6oo. 

Esquire Chip next informed his client, that her case 
must now lie over till the next session of the court, 
some months in the future. 'The law must take its 
course,' said he. 

'What! wait another court! wait months V said the 
persevering mother. ' Why, long before that time, he 
can go clear off, and take my child with him — no one 
knows where. I cannot wait ; I must have him now. 
whilst he is to be had.' 'Well,' said the lawyer, very 
coolly, 'if he puts the boy out of the way, he must pay 
the $600 — one half of which will be yours ;' supposing, 
perhaps, that $300 would pay for a 'heap of children,' in 
the eye of a slave who never, in all her life, called a dol- 
lar her own. But in this instance, he was mistaken in his 
reckoning. She assured him, that she had not been seek- 
ing monev, neither would monev satisfy her ; it was her 
4 



50 NARRATIVE OF 

son, and her son alone she wanted, and her son she must 
have. Neither could she wait court, not she. The law- 
yer used his every argument to convince her, that she 
ought to be very thankful for what they had done for 
her ; that it was a great deal, and it was but reasonable 
that she should now wait patiently the time of the court. 
Yet she never felt, for a moment, like being influenced 
by these suggestions. She felt confident she was to 
receive a full and literal answer to her prayer, the burden 
of which had been — ' O Lord, give my son into my 
hands, and that speedily ! Let not the spoilers have him 
any longer.' Notwithstanding, she very distinctly saw 
that those who had thus far helped her on so kindly were 
wearied of her, and she feared God was wearied also. 
She had a short time previous learned that Jesus was a 
Saviour, and an intercessor ; and she thought that if Jesus 
could but be induced to plead for her in the present trial, 
God would listen to him, though he were wearied of ker 
importunities. To him, of course, she applied. As she 
was walking about, scarcely knowing whither she went, 
asking within herself, ' Who will show me any good, and 
lend a helping hand in this matter,' she was accosted 
by a perfect stranger, and one whose name she has never 
learned, in the following terms: 'Halloo, there; how do 
you get along with your boy? do they give him up to 
jovlV She told him all, adding that now every body was 
tired, and she had none to help her. He said, 'Look 
here! I'll tell you what you'd better do. Do you see 
that stone house yonder?' pointing in a particular direc- 
tion. 'Well, lawyer Demain lives there, and do you go 
to him, and lay your case before him ; I think he'll help 
you. Stick to him. Don't give him peace till he does. 
I feel sure if you press him, he'll do it for you.' She 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 51 

needed no further urging, but trotted ofl* at her peculiar 
gait in the direction of his house, as last as possible, — ai d 
she was not encumbered with stockings, shoes, or any 
other heavy article of dress. When she had told him her 

story, in her impassioned manner, he looked at her a 
few moments, as if to ascertain if he were contemplating 
a new variety of the genus homo, and then told her, if 
she would give him five dollars, he would get her son for 
her, in twenty-four hours. 'Why,' she replied, '7 have 
no money, and never had a dollar in my life ! ' Said he, 
' If you will go to those Quakers in Poppletown, who 
carried you to court, they will help you to five dollars in 
cash, I have no doubt ; and you shall have your son in 
twenty-four hours, from the time you bring me that sum.' 
She performed the journey to Poppletown, a distance of 
some ten miles, very expeditiously ; collected consid- 
erable more than the sum specified by the barrister; then, 
shutting the money tightly in her hand, she trotted back, 
and paid the lawyer a larger fee than he had demanded. 
When inquired of by people what she had done with the 
overplus, she answered, ' Oh, I got it for lawyer Demain, 
and I gave it to him.' They assured her she was a fool 
to do so ; that she should have kept all over five dollars, 
and purchased herself shoes with it. ' Oh, I do not want 
money or clothes now, I only want my son ; and if five 
dollars will get him, more will surely get him.' And if 
the lawyer had returned it to her, she avers she would 
not have accepted it. She was perfectly willing he should 
have every coin she could raise, if he would but restore 
her lost son to her. Moreover, the five dollars he 
required were for the remuneration of him who should go 
after her son and his master, and not for his own services. 
The lawyer now renewed his promise, that she should 



52 NARRATIVE OF 

have her son in twenty-four hours. But Isabella, having 
no idea of this space of time, went several times in a 
day, to ascertain if her son had come. Once, when the 
servant opened the door and saw her, she said, in a tone 
expressive of much surprise, ' Why, tins woman's come 
again !' She then wondered if she went too often. When 
the lawyer appeared, he told her the twenty-four hours 
would not expire till the next morning ; if she would call 
then, she would see her son. The next morning saw 
Isabel at the lawyer's door, while he was yet in his bed. 
He now assured her it was morning till noon ; and that 
before noon her son would be there, for he had sent the 
famous 'Matty Styles' after him, who would not fail to 
have the boy and his master on hand in due season, either 
dead or alive ; of that he was sure. Telling her she 
need not come again ; he would himself inform her of 
their arrival. 

After dinner, he appeared at Mr. Rutzer's, (a place the 
lawyer had procured for her, while she awaited the 
arrival of her boy,) assuring her, her son had come ; but 
that he stoutly denied having any mother, or any relatives 
in that place ; and said, ' she must go over and identify 
him.' She went to the office, but at sight of her the boy 
cried aloud, and regarded her as some terrible being, who 
was about to take him away from a kind and loving 
friend. He knelt, even, and begged them, with tears, 
not to take him away from his dear master, who had 
brought him from the dreadful South, and been so kind 
to him. 

When he was questioned relative to the bad scar on 
his forehead, he said, ' Fowler's horse hove him.' And 
of the one on his cheek, 'That was done by running 
against the carriage.' In answering these questions he 






SOJOURNER TRUTH. .",3 

looked imploringly at his master, as much as to say, 'If 
they arc falsehoods, you bade me Bay them; may they 

be satisfactory to you, at least.' 
The justice, noting his appearance, bade him forget his 

master and attend only to him. But the boy persisted 
in denying his mother, and clinging to his master, saying 

his mother did not live in such a place as that. How- 
ever, they allowed the mother to identifj her son; and 

Esquire Demain pleaded that he claimed the boy for her, 
on the ground that he had been sold out of the State, 
contrary to the laws in such cases made and provided — • 
spoke of the penalties annexed to said crime, and of tho 
sum of money the delinquent was to pay, in case any one 
chose to prosecute him for the offence he had committed. 
Isabella, who was sitting in a corner, scarcely daring to 
breathe, thought within herself, ' If I can but get the boy, 
the $200 may remain for whoever else chooses to prose- 
cute — / have done enough to make myself enemies al- 
ready' — and she trembled at the thought of the formida- 
ble enemies she had probably arrayed against herself — 
helpless and despised as she was. When the pleading 
was at an end, Isabella understood the Judge to declare, 
as the sentence of the Court, that the ' boy be delivered 
into the hands of the mother — having no other master, 
no other controller, no other conductor, but his mother.' 
This sentence was obeyed ; he was delivered into her 
hands, the boy meanwhile begging, most piteously, not 
to be taken from his dear master, savins she was not his 
mother, and that his mother did not live in such a place 

as that. And it was some time before lawyer Demain 

' 

the clerks, and Isabella, could collectively succeed in 

calming the child's fears, and in convincing him that Isa- 
bella was not some terrible monster, as he had for the 



54: NARRATIVE OF 

last months, probably, been trained to believe ; and who, 
in taking him away from his master, was taking him from 
all good, and consigning him to all evil. 

When at last kind words and bon bons had quieted his 
fears, and he could listen to their explanations, he said to 
Isabella — ' Well, you do look like my mother used to ;' 
and she was soon able to make him comprehend some of 
the obligations he was under, and the relation he stood in, 
•both to herself and his master. She commenced as soon 
as practicable to examine the boy, and found, to her utter 
astonishment, that from the crown of his head to the sole 
of his foot, the callosities and indurations on his entire 
body were most frightful to behold. His back she de- 
scribed as being like her fingers, as she laid them side by 

side. 

' Heavens ! what is all thisP said Isabel. He answer- 
ed, ' It is where Fowler whipped, kicked, and beat me.' 
She exclaimed, 'Oh, Lord Jesus, look! see my poor 
child ! Oh Lord, " render unto them double" for all this ! 
Oh my God ! Pete, how did you bear it V 

4 Oh, this is nothing, mammy — if you should see Phil- 
lis, I guess you'd scare! She had a little baby, and 
Fowler cut her till the milk as well as blood ran down 
her body. You would scare to see Phillis, mammy.' 

When Isabella inquired, ' What did Miss Eliza* say, 
Pete, when you were treated so badly V he replied, ' Oh, 
mammy, she said she wished I was with Bell. Some- 
times I crawled under the stoop, mammy, the blood run- 
ning all about me, and my back would stick to the boards; 
and sometimes Miss Eliza would come and grease my 
#ores, when all were abed and asleep.' 

* Moaning Mrs. Eliza Fowler. 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 55 



DEATH OF MRS. ELIZA FOWLER. 

As soon as possible >li< v procured a place for Peter, as 
tender of locks, at a place called Wahkendall, near Green- 
kills, After he was thus disposed of, she visited her sister 

- hia. who resided at Newburg, and spent the winter in 
era! different families where she was acquainted. She 
remained sometime in the family of a Mr. Latin, who was 
a visiting relative of Solomon Gedney ; and the la1 
v. hen he found Isabel with his cousin, used all Ins influence 
t persuade him she was a great mischief-maker and a ven 
troublesome person, — that she had put him to some linn 
dreds of dollars expense, by fabricating lies about him, and 
especially his sister and her family, concerning her boy, 
when the latter was living so like a gentleman with them ; 
and, for his part, he would not advise his friends to harbor 
c r encourage her. However, his cousins, the Latins, could 
not see with the eyes of his feelings, and consequently his 
words fell powerless on them, and they retained her in their 
service as long as they had aught tor her to do. 

She then went to visit her former master, Dumont. She 
had scarcely arrived there, when Mr. Fred. Waring en- 
tered, and seeing Isabel, pleasantly accosted her, and asked 
her ' what she was driving at now-a-days.' On her an- 
swering ' nothing particular,' he requested her to go over 
to his place, and assist his folks, as some of them were 
sick, and they needed an extra hand. She very gladly 
ented. When Mr. W. retired, her master wanted to 
know why she wished to help people, that called her the 
: worst of devils,' as Mr. Waring had done in the court- 
house — for he was the uncle of Solomon Gedney, and at- 
tended the trial we have described — and declared 'that she 



56 NARRATIVE OF 

was a fool to ; he wouldn't do it.' l Oh,' she told him, { she 
would not mind that, but was very glad to have people for« 
get their anger towards her.' She went over, but too happy 
to feel that their resentment was passed, and commenced 
her work with a light heart and a strong will. She had not 
worked long in this frame of mind, before a young daugh- 
ter of Mr. Waring rushed into the room, exclaiming, with 
uplifted hands — ' Heavens and earth, Isabella ! Fowler's 
murdered Cousin Eliza !' ' Ho,' said Isabel, ' thafs nothing 
— he liked to have killed my child ; nothing saved him but 
God.' Meaning, that she was not at all surprised at it, for 
a man whose heart was sufficiently hardened to treat a 
mere child as hers had been treated, was, in her opinion, 
more fiend than human, and prepared for the commission 
of any crime that Ins passions might prompt him to. The 
child further informed her, that a letter had arrived by 
mail bringing the news. 

Immediately after this announcement, Solomon Gedney 
and his mother came in, going direct to Mrs. Waring's 
room, where she soon heard tones as of some one reading. 
She thought something said to her inwardly, ' Go up 
stairs and hear.' At first she hesitated, but it seemed to 
press her the more — ' Go up and hear ! ' She went up, 
unusual as it is for slaves to leave their work and enter 
unbidden their mistress's room, for the sole purpose of 
seeing or hearing what may be seen or heard there. But 
on this occasion, Isabella says, she walked in at the door, 
shut it, placed her back against it^ and listened. She saw 
them and heard them read — ' He knocked her down with 
his fist, jumped on her with his knees, broke her collar 
bone, and tore out her wind-pipe ! He then attempted 
his escape, but was pursued and arrested, and put in an 
iron bank for safe-keeping ! ' And the friends were re- 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 57 

quested to go down and take away the poor innoo 
children who had thus been made in one shorl day more 
than orphans. 

If this narrative should over meet the eye of those 
innocent sufferers for another's guilt, let them not l»r too 
deeply affected by the relation; but, placing their confi- 
dence in Him who sees the end from the beginning, and 
controls the results, resl secure in the faith, that, although 
they may physically suffer forthesinsof others, if they re- 
main but true to themselves, their highest and more en- 
< luring interests can never suffer from such a cause. 
This relation should be suppressed for their sakes, were 
it not even now so often denied, that slavery is fast under- 
mining all true regard for human life. We know this 
one instance is not a demonstration to the contrary ; but, 
adding this to the lists of tragedies that weekly come up 
to us through the Southern mails, may we not admit 
them as proofs irrefragable ? The newspapers confirm 
this account of the terrible affair. 

"When Isabella had heard the letter, all being too much 
absorbed in their own feelings to take note of her, she 
returned to her work, her heart swelling with conflicting 

' OCT 

emotions. She was awed at the dreadful deed ; she 
mourned the fate of the loved Eliza, who had in such an 
undeserved and barbarous manner been put away from 
her labors and watchings as a tender mother ; and, ' last 
though not least,' in the development of her character 
and spirit, her heart bled for the afflicted relatives ; even 
those of them who ' laughed at her calamity, and mock- 
ed when her fear came. ' Her thoughts dwelt long and 
intently on the subject, and the wonderful chain of event3 
that had conspired to bring her that day to that house, to 
listen to that piece of intelligence — to that house, where 



58 NARRATIVE OF 

she never was before or afterwards in her life, and invit- 
ed there by people who had so lately been hotly 
incensed against her. It all seemed very remarkable to 
her, and she viewed it as flowing from a special providence 
of God. She thought she saw clearly, that their unnatu- 
ral bereavement was a blow dealt in retributive justice : 
but she found it not in her heart to exult or rejoice over 
them. She felt as if God had more than answered her 
petition, when she ejaculated, in her anguish of mind, 
' Gh, Lord, render unto them double ! ' She said, ' I 
dared not find fault with God, exactly ; but the language 
of my heart was, ' Gh, my God ! that's too much — I did 
not mean quite so much, God ! ' It was a terrible blow 
to the friends of the deceased ; and her selfish mother 
(who, said Isabella, made such a ' to-do about her boy, 
not from affection, ' but to have her own will and way') 
went deranged, and walking to and fro in her delirium, 
called aloud for her poor murdered daughter — ' Eliza ! 
Eliza!' 

The derangement of Mrs. G. was a matter of hearsay, 
as Isabella saw her not after the trial ; but she has no 
reason to doubt the truth of what she heard. Isabel 
could never learn the subsequent fate of Fowler, but 
heard in the spring of '49 that his children had been 
seen in Kingston — one of whom was spoken of as a fine, 
interesting girl, albeit a halo of sadness fell like a veil 
about her. 



ISABELLA'S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 

We will now turn from the outward and temporal to 
the inward and spiritual life of our subject. It is ever 
both interesting and instructive to trace the exercises of 



BOJOUBNSB TRUTH. 59 

a human mini, through the trials and mysteries of life ; 
ially a naturally powerful mind, left as hers was 
almost entirely to its own workings, and the chance in- 
fluences it met on its way; and especially to note its 
reception of that divine 'light, that iighteth every man 
that cometh into the world. 1 

We see, as knowledge dawns upon it, truth and error 
strangely commingled ; here, a bright spot illuminated 
by truth — and there, one darkened and distorted by 
error ; and the state of such a soul may be compared to 
a landscape at early dawn, where the sun is seen superbly 
gilding some objects, and causing others to send forth 
their lengthened, distorted, and sometimes hideous shad- 
ows. 

Her mother, as we have already said, talked to her of 
God. From these conversations, her incipient mind drew 
the conclusion, that God was ' a great man ; ' greatly su- 
perior to other men in power ; and being located ' high 
in the sky,' could see all that transpired on the earth. 
She believed he not only saw, but noted down all her ac- 
tions in a great book, even as her master kept a record 
Of whatever he wished not to forget. But she had no 
idea that God knew a thought of hers till she had uttered 
it aloud. 

As we have before mentioned, she had ever been mind- 
ful of her mother's injunctions, spreading out in detail all 
her troubles before God, imploring and firmly trusting 
him to send her deliverance from them. AVhilst yet a 
child, she listened to a story of a wounded soldier, left 
alone in the trail of a flying army, helpless and starving, 
who hardened the very ground about him with kneeling 
in his supplications to God for relief, until it arrived. 
From this narrative, she was deeply impressed with the 



60 NARRATIVE OF 

idea, that if she also were to present her petitions under 
the open canopy of heaven, speaking very loud, she 
should the more readily be heard ; consequently, she 
sought a fitting spot for this, her rural sanctuary. The 
place she selected, in which to offer up her daily orisons, 
was a small island in a small stream, covered with large 
willow shrubbery, beneath which the sheep had made 
their pleasant winding paths ; and sheltering themselves 
from the scorching rays of a noon-tide sun, luxuriated in 
the cool shadows of the graceful willows, as they listened 
to the tiny falls of the silver waters. It was a lonely 
spot, and chosen by her for its beauty, its retirement, and 
because she thought that there, in the noise of those 
waters, she could speak louder to God, without being 
overheard by any who might pass that way. When she 
had made choice of her sanctum, at a point of the island 
where the stream met, after having been separated, she 
improved it by pulling away the branches of the shrubs 
from the centre, and weaving them together for a wall 
on the outside, forming a circular arched alcove, made 
entirely of the graceful willow. To this place she re- 
sorted daily, and hi pressing times much more frequently. 

At this time, her prayers, or, more appropriately, 
1 talks with God,' were perfectly original and unique, and 
would be well worth preserving, were it possible to give 
the tones and manner with the words ; but no adequate 
idea of them can be written while the tones and manner 
remain inexpressible. 

She would sometimes repeat, ' Our Father in heaven,' 
in her Low Dutch, as taught her by her mother , after 
that, all was from the suggestions of her own rude mind. 
She related to God, in minute detail, all her troubles and 
sufferings, inquiring, a? she proceeded, ' Do you think 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 01 

that's right, God?' and dosed by begging to be delivered 
from the evil, whatever it might 1m-. 

She talked to God as familiarly as if he had been a 
creature like herself; and a thousand times more so, than 
if she had been in the presence of some earthly potentate 
She demanded, with little expenditure of reverence or 
fear, a supply of all her more pressing wants, and at 
times her demands approached very near to commands, 
felt as if God Mas under obligation to her, much 
more than she was to him. lie seemed to her benighted 
vision in some manner bound to do her bidding. 

Her heart recoils now, with very dread, when she re 
calls these shocking, almost blasphemous conversations 
with the great Jehovah. And well for herself did she 
deem it, that, unlike earthly potentates, his infinite cha- 
racter combined the tender father with the omniscient 
and omnipotent Creator of the universe. 

She at first commenced promising God, that if he would 
help her out of all her difficulties, she would pay him by 

Mg very good ; and this goodness she intended as a re- 
muneration to God. She could think of no benefit that 
I - to accrue to herself or her fellow-creatures, from her 
Leading a life of purity and generous self-sacrifice for the 
good of others ; as far as any but God was concerned, 
she saw nothing in it but heart-trying penance, sustained 
by the sternest exertion ; and this she soon found much 
more easily promised than performed. 

Davs wore away — new trials came — God's aid was in- 
voked, and the same promises repeated ; and every suc- 
cessive night found her part of the contract unfulfilled. 
She now began to excuse herself, by telling God she could 
not be good in her present circumstances ; but if he 
would give her a new place, and a good master and mis- 



62 NARRATIVE OF 

tress, she could and would be good ; and she express! j 
stipulated, that she would be good one day to show God 
how good she would be all of the time, when he should 
surround her with the right influences, and she should be 
delivered from the temptations that then so sorely beset 
her. But, alas ! when night came, and she became con- 
scious that she had yielded to all her temptations, and 
entirely failed of keeping her word with God, having 
prayed and promised one hour, and fallen into the sins of 
anger and profanity the next, the mortifying reflection 
weighed on her mind, and blunted her enjoyment. Still, 
she did not lay it deeply to heart, but continued to repeat 
her demands for aid, and her promises of pay, with full 
purpose of heart, at each particular time, that that day 
she would not fail to keep her plighted word. 

Thus perished the inward spark, like a flame just ignit- 
ing, when one waits to see whether it will burn on or die 
out, till the long desired change came, and she found her- 
self in a new place, with a good mistress, and one who 
never instigated an otherwise kind master to be unkind 
to her ; in short, a place where she had literally nothing 
to complain of, and where, for a time, she was more hap- 
py than she could well express. ' Oh, every thing there 
was so pleasant, and kind, and good, and all so comforta- 
ble ; enough of every thing ; indeed, it was beautiful ! ' 
she exclaimed. 

Here, at Mr. Van Wagener's, — as the reader will read- 
ily perceive she must have been, — she was so happy and 
satisfied, that God was entirely forgotten. Why should 
her thoughts turn to Him, who was only known to her as 
a help in trouble 1 She had no trouble now ; her every 
prayer had been answered in every minute particular. 
She had been delivered from her persecutor s and temp- , 






SOJOURNER TRUTH. 63 

tations, her youngest child had been given her, and the 
others she knew she had no means of sustaining if she had 
them with her, and was content to leave them behind. 
Their father, who was much older than Isabel, and who 
preferred serving his time out in slavery, to the trouble 
and dangers of the course she pursued, remained with 
and could keep an eye on them — though it is comparatively 
little that they can do for each other while they remain in 
slavery ; and this little the slave, like persons in every 
other situation of life, is not always disposed to perform. 
There are slaves, who, copying the selfishness of their su- 
periors in power, in their conduct towards their fellows 
who may be thrown upon their mercy, by infirmity or 
illness, allow them to suffer for want of that kindness and 
care which it is fully in their power to render them. 

The slaves in this country have ever been allowed to 
celebrate the principal, if not some of the lesser festivals 
observed by the Catholics and Church of England ; many 
of them not being required to do the least service for 
several days, and at Christmas they have almost univer- 
sally an entire week to themselves, except, perhaps, the 
attending to a few duties, which are absolutely required 
for the comfort of the families they belong to. If much 
service is desired, they are hired to do it, and paid for it 
as if they were free. The more sober portion of them 
spend these holidays in earning a little money. Most of 
them visit and attend parties and balls, and not a few of 
them spend it in the lowest dissipation. This respite from 
toil is granted them by all religionists, of whatever per- 
suasion, and probably originated from the fact that many 
of the first slaveholders were members of the Church of 
England. 

Frederick Douglass, who has devoted his great heart 



64 NARRATIVE OF 

and noble talents entirely to the furtherance of the cause 
of his down-trodden race, has said — ' From what I know 
of the effect of their holidays upon the slave, 1 believe 
them to be among the most effective means, in the hands 
of the slaveholder, in keeping down the spirit of insur- 
rection. Were the slaveholders at once to abandon this 
practice, I have not the slightest doubt it would lead to 
an immediate insurrection among the slaves. These hol- 
idays serve as conductors, or safety-valves, to carry off 
the rebellious spirit of enslaved humanity. But for these, 
the slave would be forced up to the wildest desperation ; 
and woe betide the slaveholder, the day he ventures to 
remove or hinder the operation of those conductors ! I 
warn him that, in such an event, a spirit will go forth in 
their midst, more to be dreaded than the most appalling 
earthquake.' 

When Isabella had been at Mr. Van Wagener's a few 
months, she saw hi prospect one of the festivals approach- 
ing. She knows it by none but the Dutch name, Pingster, 
as she calls it — but I think it must have been Whit- 
suntide, in English. She says she ' looked back into Egypt,' 
and everything looked ' so pleasant there,' as she saw ret- 
rospectively all her former companions enjoying their 
freedom for at least a little space, as well as their wonted 
convivialities, and in her heart she longed to be with them. 
With this picture before her mind's eye, she contrasted 
the quiet, peaceful life she was living with the excellent 
people of Wahkendall, and it seemed so dull and void of 
incident, that the very contrast served but to heighten her 
desire to return, that, at least, she might enjoy with them, 
once more, the coming festivities. These feelings had oc- 
cupied a secret corner of her breast for some time, when, 
one morning, she told Mrs. Van Wagener that her old 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 65 

master Dumont would come that day, and that she should 
go home with him on his return. They expressed some sur- 
prise, and asked her where Bhe obtained her information. 

She replied, thai no one had told her, but she felt that lie 
would come. 

It seemed to have been one of those 'events that «, 
their shadows before;' for, before night, Mr. Dumont 
made his appearance. She informed him of her inten- 
tion to accompany him home. He answered, with a. 
smile, * I shall not take you back again; you ran away 
from me.' Thinking his manner contradicted his words, 
site did not feel repulsed, but made herself and child 
ready ; and when her former master had seated himself in 
the open dearborn, she walked towards it, intending to 
place herself and child in the rear, and go with him. But, 
ere she reached the vehicle, she says that God revealed 
himself to her, with all the suddenness of a flash of light- 
ning, showing her, 'in the twinkling of an eye, that he was 
all over" — that he pervaded the universe — 'and that there 
was in> place where God was not.' She became instantly 
conscious of her great sin in forgetting her almighty 
Friend and ' ever-present help in time of trouble.' All 
her unfulfilled promises arose before her, like a vexed sea 
whose waves run mountains high; and her soul, which 
seemed but one mass of lies, shrunk back aghast from 
liie 'awful look' of Him whom she had formerly talked 
to, as if he had been a being like herself; and she would 
now lain have hid herself in the bowels of the earth, to 
have escaped his dread presence. But she plainly saw 
there was no place, not even in hell, where he was not: 
and where could she flee? Another such 'a look,' as she 
expressed it, and she felt that she must be extinguished 
5 



66 NARRATIVE OF 

forever, even as one, with the breath of his mouth, ' blows 
out a lamp,' so that no spark remains. 

A dire dread of annihilation now seized her, and she 
waited to see if, by ' another look,' she was to be stricken 
from existence, — swallowed up, even as the fire licketh up 
the oil with which it comes in contact. 

"When at last the second look came not, and her atten- 
tion was once more called to outward things, she obser- 
ved her master had left, and exclaiming aloud, ' Oh, God, 
I did not know you were so big,' walked into the house, 
and made an effort to resume her work. But the work- 
ings of the inward man were too absorbing to admit of 
much attention to her avocations. She desired to talk to 
God, but her vileness utterly forbade it, and she was not 
able to prefer a petition. 'What !' said she, l shall I lie 
again to God 1 ? I have told him nothing but lies; and 
shall I speak again, and tell another lie to God 1 ' She 
could not ; and now she began to wish for some one to 
speak to God for her. Then a space seemed opening be- 
tween her and God, and she felt that if some one, who 
was worthy in the sight of heaven, would but plead for 
her in their own name, and not let God know it came 
from Iter, who was so unworthy, God might grant it. At 
length a friend appeared to stand between herself and an 
insulted Deity ; and she felt as sensibly refreshed as when, 
on a hot day, an umbrella had been interposed between 
her scorching head and a burning sun. But who was this 
friend 1 became the next inquiry. "Was it Deencia, who 
had so often befriended her 1 She looked at her with hei 
new power of sight — and, lo ! she, too, seemed all ' bruises 
and putrifying sores,' like herself. No, it was some one 
very different from Deencia. 



SOJOURNER i ki i li. u7 

4 Who on 3 "ii .'" she exclaimed, as the \ ision brightened 
into a form distinct, beaming with the beauty ofholin 
and radiant with love. She then said, audibly address- 
ing the mysterious visitant — ' I know you, and I don't 
know you.' Meaning, * You seem perfectly familiar ; I 
feel that you not only love me, but that you always have 
loved me — yel 1 know you not — I cannot call you l>y 
name.' When she said, 'I knew you,' the subject of the 
vision remained distinct and quiet. Winn she said,'] 
don't know you,' it moved restlessly about, like agitated 
waters. So while she repeated, without intermission, '1 
know you, I know yon,' that the vision might remain — 
1 Who arc you f was the cry of her heart, and her whole 
soul was in one deep prayer that this heavenly personage 
might be revealed to her, and remain with her. At 
length, after bending both soul and body with the inten- 
sity of this desire, till breath and strength seemed failing, 
and she could maintain her position no longer, an answer 
came to her, saying distinctly, 'It is Jesus.' 'Yes,' she 
responded, l it is Jesus' 

Previous to these exercises of mind, she heard Jesus 
mentioned in reading or speaking, but had received from 
what she heard no impression that lie was any other than 
an eminent man. like a Washington or a Lafayette. Now 
he appeared to her delighted mental vision as so mild, so 
good, and so every way lovely, and he loved her SO much ! 
And. how strange that he had always loved her, and she 
had never known it ! And how great a Messing he con- 
ferred, in that he should stand between her and God! 
And ( rod was no longer a terror and a dread to her. 

She stopped not to argue the point, even in her own 
mind, whether he had reconciled her to God, or God to 
herself, (though she thinks the former now,) being but 



68 NARRATIVE OF 

too happy that God was no longer to her as a consuming 
fire, and Jesus was ' altogether lovely.' Her heart was 
now full of joy and gladness, as it had been of terror, 
and at one time of despair. In the light of her great 
happiness, the world was clad in new beauty, the very 
air sparkled as with diamonds, and was redolent of heaven. 
She contemplated the unapproachable barriers that exist- 
ed between herself and the great of this world, as the 
world calls greatness, and made surprising comparisons 
between them, and the union existing between herself and 
Jesus, — Jesus, the transcendcntly lovely as well as great 
and powerful ; for so he appeared to her, though he seem- 
ed but human; and she watched for his bodily appearance, 
feeling that she should know him, if she saw him ; and 
when he came, she should go and dwell with him, as with 
a dear friend. 

It was not given her to see that he loved any other ; 
and she thought if others came to know and love him, as 
she did, she should be thrust aside and forgotten, being 
herself but a poor ignorant slave, with little to recom- 
mend her to his notice. And when she heard him spoken 
of, she said mentally — '"What! others know Jesus! I 
thought no one knew Jesus but me!' and she felt a sort 
of jealousy, lest she should be robbed of her newly found 
treasure. 

She conceived, one day, as she listened to reading, that 
she heard an intimation that Jesus was married, and has- 
tily inquired if Jesus had a wife. ' What !' said the read- 
er, ' God have a wife V ' Is Jesus God V inquired Isabella. 
'Yes, to be sure he is,' w T as the answer returned. From 
this time, her conceptions of Jesus became more eleva- 
ted and spiritual; and she sometimes spoke of him as 
God, in accordance with tin- teaching she had received. 






>J01 i;\ Ki: 1 1 : 1 1 1 1 . Gfl 

Bui w hen she was simp!) told, thai the < Ihristian world 
was much divided on the subjeel of ( Ihrist's nature some 
believing him t' 1 I"' coequal with the Father to be God 
in and of himself, ' \er\ God, of \«i\ God ;" -some, that 
he is the ' well-beloved,' ' onl} begotten Son of God ;' — 
and others, thai he is. or was, rather, bul a mere man — 
she said, 'Of thai I 011I3 know as I saw. I did no1 see 
jiiin to be God ; else, how could he stand between me 
and God ? I sa"« him as a friend, standing between me 
and God, through whom, love flowed as from a fountain.' 
Now. so I'lr from expressing her views <>f Christ's char- 
acter and office in accordance with any system of theolo- 
gy extant, sin- says she believes Jesus is the same spirit 
that was in our firsl parents, Adam and Eve, in the be- 
ginning, when they came from the hand of their Creator. 
When they sinned through disobedience, this pure spirit 
forsook thrill, and fled to heaven ; that there it remained, 
until it returned again in the person of Jesus; and that, 
previous to a personal union with him, man is but a 
brute, possessing "lily the spirit «>!" an animal. 

Slir avers that, in her darkest hours, she had no fear of 
any worse hell than the one she then carried in her bosom ; 
though it had ever been pictured t<> her in its deepest 
colors, and threatened her as a reward for all her misde- 
meanors. Her vileness and God's holiness and all-per- 
vading presence, which tilled immensity, and threatened 
her with instant annihilation, composed the burden of her 
vision of terror. I In- faith in prayer isequalto her faith in 
the love of Jesus. Her language is, ' Let others say what 
they will of the efficacy of prayer, I believe in it, and / shall 
pray. Thank God ! Y es, I shall always pray ,' she exclaims, 
putting her hands together with the greatest enthusiasm. 

For some time subsequent to tin- happy change we 



70 NARRATIVE OF 

have spoken of, Isabella's prayers partook largely of 
their former character; and while, in deep affliction, she 
labored for the recovery of her son, she prayed with 
constancy and fervor ; and the following may be taken 
as a specimen : — ' Oh, God, yon know how much I am 
distressed, for I have told you again and again. Now, 
God, help me get my son. If you were in trouble, as I 
am, and I could help you, as you can me, think I would n't 
do it ? Yes, God, you hwiv I would do it.' ' Oh, God, 
you know I have no money, but you can make the peo- 
ple do for me, and you must make the people do for me. 
I will never give you peace till you do, God.' ' Oh, 
God, make the people hear me — don't let them turn me 
olT, without hearing and helping me.' And she has not a 
particle of doubt, that God heard her, and especially dis- 
posed the hearts of thoughtless clerks, eminent lawyers, 
and grave judges and others — between whom and herself 
there seemed to her almost an infinite remove — to listen 
to her suit with patient and respectful attention, backing 
it up with all needed aid. The sense of her nothingness, 
in the eyes of those >vith whom she contended for her 
rights, sometimes fell on her like a heavy weight, which 
nothing but her unwavering confidence in an arm which 
she believed to be stronger than all others combined 
could have raised from her sinking spirit. ' Oh ! how 
little I did feel,' she repeated, with a powerful emphasis. 
' Neither would you wonder, if you could have seen me, 
in my ignorance and destitution, trotting about the streets, 
meanly clad, bare-headed, and bare-footed ! Oh, God 
only could have made such people hear me ; and he did 
it in answer to my prayers.' And this perfect trust, 
based on the rock of Deity, was a soul-protecting fortress, 
which, raising her above the battlements of fear, and 



0J01 i:\kk TRU I H 7L 

shielding her from the machinations of 1 1 1« * enemy, im- 
pelled her onward in the struggle, lill the foe was van 
quished, ;m<l the \ ictory gained. 

We have now seen Isabella, her youngest daughter, 
;iiul her oiils son, in possession of] al least, their nomi- 
nal freedom. Ii has been said thai the freedom of the 
most free of the colored people of thiscountry is but 
nominal ; l>ut stinted and limited as it is, at best, it is 
an immense remove from chattel slavery. 'I his fact is 
disputed, I kn<>\\ ;but I have no confidence in the honesty 
of such questionings: If they arc made in sincerity, I 
honornot the judgment that thus decides. 

Her husband, quite advanced in age, and infirm of 
health, was emancipated, with the balance of the adult 
slaves of the Stat*', according to law, the following sum- 
mer, July 4, L82S. 

For a few years after this event, he was able to earn a 
scanty living, and when lie failed to do that, he was de- 
pendent <>n the ; world's cold charity,' and died in a poor- 
house. Isabella had herself and two children to provide for ; 
her wages were trifling, for al thai time the wages of 
females were at a small advance from nothing; and she 
doubtless had to learn the. first elements of economy — 
for whal slaves, that were never allowed to make any 
stipulations or calculations for themselves, ever possess- 
ed an adequate idea of the true value of time, or, in tact, 
of any material thing in the universe? To such, 'pru- 
dent using' is meanness — and ' saving' is a word to be 
sneered at. Of course, it was npt in her power to make 
to herself a home, around whose sacred hearth- 
stone she could collect her family, as they gradually 
emerged from their prison-house of bondage; a home, 
where she could cultivate their affection, administer to 



72 NARRATIVE OF 

their wants, and instil into the opening minds of her chil- 
dren those principles of virtue, and that love of purity, 
truth and benevolence, which must ever form the foun- 
dation of a life of usefulness and happiness. No — all this 
was far beyond her power or means, in more senses than 
one; and it should be taken into the account, whenever 
a comparison is instituted between the progress made 
by her children in virtue and goodness, and the progress 
of those who have been nurtured in the genial warmth of 
a sunny home, where good influences cluster, and bad 
ones are carefully excluded — where ' line upon line, and 
precept upon precept,' are daily brought to their quoti- 
dian tasks — and where, in short, every appliance is 
brought in recpiisition, that self-denying parents can 
bring to bear on one of the dearest objects of a parent's 
life, the promotion of the welfare of their children. But 
God forbid that this suggestion should be wrested from 
its original intent, and made to shield any one from merit- 
ed rebuke! Isabella's children are now of an age to know 
good from evil, and may easily inform themselves on any 
point where they may yet be in doubt ; and if they now suf- 
fer themselves to be drawn by temptation into the paths of 
the destroyer, or forget what is due to the mother who 
has done and suffered so much for them, and who, now 
that she is descending into the vale of years, and feels 
her healtn and strength declining, will turn her expect- 
ing eyes to them for aid and comfort, just as instinctively 
as the child turns its confiding eye to its fond parent, 
when it seeks for suixor or for sympathy — (for it is now 
their turn to do the work, and bear the burdens of life, 
as all must bear them in turn, as the wheel of life rolls 
on) — if, I say, they forget tins, their duty and their happi- 
ness, and pursue an opposite course of sin and folly, they 



SOJOURNER TRUTH, 78 

must lose the respecl of the wis.' and good, and find, 
when too late, thai l the \\a\ of the transgressor is hard.' 



CTEW TIM. M.S. 

Tli.- reader will pardon this passing homily, while we 
return i<» our narrath e. 

We were saying that 1 1 1* ■ da} dreams of Isabella and her 
husband — the plan they drew of what they would do, and 
ili.' comfortsthej thoughl to have, when they should obtain 
their freedom, and a little home of their own — had all 
turned to 'thin air,' by the postponement of their freedom 
in s.» late a day. These delusive hopes were never to be 
realized, and a new set of (rials was gradually to open 
before her. Those wore, the heart-wasting trials of watch- 
ing over her children, scattered, and imminently exposed 
t.. the temptations of the adversary, with tew, it' any, fixed 
principles to sustain them. 

' Oh,' she says, ' how little did I know myself of the besl 
way to instruct and counsel them ! Yet 1 did the best I 
thru knew, whm with them. 1 took them to the religious 
meetings; I talked to, and prayed forand with them ; when 
they did wrong, I scolded at and whipped them.' 

Isabella and her son had been five about a year, when 
they went to reside in the city <>!' New York; a place which 
she would doubtless have avoided, could she have seen what 
was there in store for her ; for this view into the future 
would have taught her what she only learned by bitter ex- 
perience, that the baneful influences going up from such a 
city were not the best helps to education, commenced as 
the education of her children had been. 

Her son Peter was, at the time of which we are speak- 



74 NARRATIVE OF 

ing, just at that ago when no lad should be subjected to 
the temptations of such a place, unprotected as he was, 
save by the feeble arm of a mother, herself a servant 
there. lie was growing up to be a tall, well-formed, ac- 
tive lad, of quick perceptions, mild and cheerful in his dis- 
position, with much that was open, generous and winning 
about him, but with little power to withstand temptation, 
and a ready ingenuity to provide himself with ways and 
means to carry out his plans, and conceal from his mother 
and her friends, all such as he knew would not meet their 
approbation. As will be readily believed, he was soon 
drawn into a circle of associates who did not improve either 
his habits or his morals. 

Two years passed before Isabella knew what character 
Peter was establishing for himself among his low and 
worthless comrades — passing under the assumed name of 
Peter Williams ; and she began to feel a parent's pride in 
the promising appearance of her only son. But, alas ! this 
pride and pleasure were shortly dissipated, as distressing 
facts relative to him came one by one; to her astonished ear. 
A friend of Isabella's, a lady, who was much pleased with 
the good humor, ingenuity, and open confessions of Peter, 
when driven into a corner, and who, she said, 'was so 
smart, he ought to have an education, if any one ought,' — 
paid ten dollars, as tuition fee, for him to attend a naviga- 
tion school. But Peter, little inclined to spend his leisure 
hours in study, when ho might be enjoying himself in the 
dance, or otherwise, with his boon companions, went regu- 
larly and made some plausible excuses to the teacher, who 
received them as genuine, along with the ten dollars of Mrs. 

, and while his mother and her friend believed him 

improving at school, he was, to their latent sorrow, im- 
proving in a very different place or places, and on entirely 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 75 

opposite principles. They also procured him an excellent 
place as a coachman. But, wanting money, he Bold hi* 
livery, and other things belonging to his master; who,hav- 
iii<>- conceived a kind regard for him, considered his youth, 
and prevented the lawfrom falling, with all its rigor, upon 
his head. Still he continued to abuse his privileges, and 
to involve himself in repeated difficulties, from which his 
mother as often extricated him. Ai each time,she talked 
much, and reasoned and remonstrated with him; and he 
would, with such perfect frankness, lay open his wholesoul 
to her, telling her he had never intended doing harm, — 
h<>w he had been led along, little by little, till, before ho 
was aware, he found himself in trouble — how he had trie< I 
to be good — and how, when he would have been so, 'evil 
was present with him,' — indeed he knew not how it was. 

His mother, beginning to feel that the city was no place 
for him, urged his going to sea, and would have shipped 
him on board a man-of-war ; but Peter was not disposed 
to consent to that proposition, while the city and its plea 
sures were accessible to him. Isabella now became a 
prey to distressing fears, dreading lest the next day or 
hour come fraught with the report of some dreadful 
crime, committed or abetted by her son. She thanks tVie 
Lord for sparing her that giant sorrow, as all his wrong 
doings never ranked higher, in the eye of the law, than 
misdemeanors. But as she could see no improvement in 
Peter, as a last resort, she resolved to leave him, for a 
time, unassisted, to hear the penalty of his conduct, and 
sec what effect that would have on him. In the trial hour, 
she remained firm in her resolution. Peter again tell into 
ih.' hands of the police, and sent for his mother, as usual ; 
hut she went not to his relief! In his extremity, he sent 
for Peter Williams, a respectable colored barber, whose 



70 NARRATIVE OF 

name he had been wearing, and who sometimes helped 
young culprits out of their troubles, and sent them from 
eity dangers, by shipping them onboard of whaling vessels. 

The curiosity of this man was awakened by the cul- 
prit's bearing his own name. He went to the Tombs and 
inquired into his case, but could not believe what Peter 
told him respecting his mother and family. Yet he re- 
deemed him, and Peter promised to leave New York in 
a vessel that was to sail in the course of a week. He 
went to sec his mother, and informed her of what had 
happened to him. She listened incredulously, as to an 
idle tale. lie asked her to go with him and sec for her- 
self. She went, giving no credence to his story till she 
found herself in the presence of Mr. Williams, and heard 
him saying to her, ' I am very glad I have assisted your 
son ; he stood in great need of sympathy and assistance ; 
but I could not think he had such a mother here, although 
he assured me he had.' 

Isabella's great trouble now was, a fear lest her son 
should deceive his benefactor, and be missing when the 
vessel sailed ; but he begged her earnestly to trust him, 
for he said he had resolved to do better, and meant to 
abide by the resolve. Isabella's heart gave her no peace 
till the time of sailing, when Peter sent Mr. Williams 
and another messenger whom she knew, to tell her he 
had sailed. But for a month afterwards, she looked to 
see him emerging from some by-place in the city, and 
appearing before her ; so afraid was she that he was still 
unfaithful, and doing wrong. But he did not appear, and 
at length she believed him really gone. He left in the 
summer of 1839, and his friends heard nothing further 
from him till his mother received the following letter, 
dated « October 17, 1840' :— 



BOJOUBNEB TBUTH, 77 

IsTv Deab ami Bbi oved Mother : 

k I take this opportunity to write to you and inform you 
that I am well, and in hopes for to find you the same. 1 
am got on board the same unlucky ship Done, of Nan- 
tucket. 1 am sorrj for to say, that I have been punished 
once severely, b} shoving my head in the fire for other 
folks. We have had bad luck, but in hopes to have bet- 
ter. We haveaboul 230 on board, but in hopes, if don't 
kave L r ""«l luck, that my parents will receive me with 
thanks. I would like to know how my sisters are. ] toes 
uiy cousins live in New York yet ! Elave you got my 
letter % It' not, inquire to Mr. Pierce "Whiting's. I wish 
\ ou would write me an answer as soon as possible. I am 
\ our only son, that is so far from your home, in the wide, 
briny ocean. 1 have seen more of the world than ever I 
expected, and if I ever should return home safe, I will tell 
you all my troubles and hardships. Mother, I hope you 
do not forgel me, your dear and only son. 1 should like 
to know how Sophia, and Betsey, and Hannah, come on. 
1 hope you all will forgive me for all that I have done. 
'Your son, PETER VAN WAGENER.' 

Another letter reads as follows, dated 'March 22, 
L841':— 

k M\ I M: \i; Mother : 

'1 take this opportunity to write to you, and inform 
\"n that 1 have been well and in good health, i have 
wrote \'>u a letter before, but have received no answer 
from you, and was very anxious to see you. I hope to 
you in a short time. 1 have had verj hard Luck, but 
are in hopes to have better in time to come. I should 



78 NARRATIVE OF 

like if my sisters are well, and all the people round the 
neighborhood. I expect to be home in twenty-two 
months or thereabouts. I have seen Samuel Laterett. 
Beware ! There has happened very bad news to tell 
you. that Peter Jackson is dead. He died within two 
days' sail of Otaheite, one of the Society Islands. The 
Peter Jackson that used to live at Laterett' s ; he died on 
board the ship Done, of Nantucket, Captain Miller, in the 
latitude 15 53, and longitude 148 30 W. I have no more 
to say at present, but write as soon as possible. 

'Your only son, 

'PETER VAN WAGENER.' 



Another, containing the last intelligence she has had 
from her son, reads as follows, and was dated ' Sept. 19, 
1811':— 

' Dear Mother : 

' 1 take this opportunity to write to you and inform 
you that I am well and in good health, and in hopes to 
find you in the same. This is the fifth letter that I have- 
wrote to you, and have received no answer, and it makes 
me very uneasy. So pray write as quick as you can, and 
tell me how all the people is about the neighborhood. 
We are out from home twenty-three months, and in 
hopes to be home in fifteen months. I have not much to 
say ; but tell me if you have been up home since I left 
or not. I want to know what sort of a time is at home. 
We had very bad luck when we first came out, but since 
we have had very good ; so I am in hopes to do well yet ; 
but if I do n't do well, you need not expect me home these 
five years. So write as epiick as you can, won't you 1 So 
now 1 am going to put an end to my writing, at present. 



SOJOURNER TKl Til. 7tf 

Notice — when this you Bee, remember me, and place me 
in your mind. 

Gel me to my home, that's in the far distant west, 
To the Bcenes of my childhood, that I like the besl ; 
There the tall cedars grow, and the bright waters flow, 
Where my parents will greet me, white man, let me go I 

Let me go to the Bpot where the cateract plays, 
Where of) 1 have sported in my boyish days; 

Ami there is my poor mother, whose heart ever flows, 
At the sight of her poor child, to her let me go, let me go! 

' Your only s.»ii 7 

'Peter Van Wagener. 5 

Since the date of the last letter, Isabella has heard uo 
tidings from her long-absent son, though ardently does 
her mother's heart long for such tidings, as her thoughts 
follow him around the world, in his perilous vocation, 
saying within herself — 'lie is good now, I have no doubt; 
1 feel sure that he lias persevered, and kept the resolve 
he made before he left home; — he seemed so different 
before be went, so determined to do better.' IJis letters 
are inserted here for preservation, in ease they prove the 
lasl she ever hears from him in this world. 



FINDING A BROTHER AND SISTER. 

When Isabella had obtained the freedom of lier son, 
she remained in Kingston, where she had been drawn by 
the judicial process, about a year, during which time she 
became a member of the Methodist Church there: and 
when she went to New York, she took a letter missive 
from that church to the Methodist Church in John street 



80 NAKEATIVE OF 

Afterwards, she withdrew her connection with that church, 
and joined Zion's Church, in Church street, composed 
entirely of colored people. With the latter church she 
remained until she went to reside with Mr. Pierson, 
after which, she was gradually drawn into the 'kingdom' 
set up by the prophet Matthias, in the name of God the 
Father ; for he said tne spirit of God the Father dwelt 
hi him. 

While Isabella was in New York, her, sister Sophia 
came from Ncwburg to reside in the former place. Isabel 
had been favored with occasional interviews wUh this 
sister, although at one time she lost sight of her for the 
space of seventeen years — almost the entire period of 
of her being at Mr. Dumont's — and when she appeared 
before her again, handsomely dressed, she did not recog 
nize her, till informed who she was. Sophia informed 
her that her brother Michael — a brother she had never 
seen — was in the city ; and when she introduced him to 
Isabella, he informed her that their sister Nancy had been 
living in the city, and had deceased a few months before. 
He described her features, her dress, her manner, and 
said she had for some time been a member in Zion's 
Church, naming the class she belonged to. Isabella 
almost instantly recognized her as a sister in the church, 
with whom she had Knelt at the altar, and with whom 
she had exchanged the speaking pressure of the hand, in 
recognition of their spiritual sisterhood ; little thinking, 
at the time, that they were also children of the same 
earthly parents — eyeu Bomefree and Mau-mau Bett. As 
inquiries and answers rapidly passed, and the conviction 
deepened that this was their sister, the very sister they 
had heard so much of, but had never seen, (for she was 
the self-same sister that had been locked in the great old 



0J01 i:\i' i; i 1:1 i ii. 81 

fashioned sleigh box, when she was taken away, never to 
behold her mother's face ngain this ^i< l»* the spirit-land, 
and Michael, tin' narrator, was the brother who had 

shared her fate,) Isabella thought, *D li ! here she 

was; wo met ; and was I not, at the time, struck with 
the peculiar feeling of her hand— the bony hardness so 
just [ike mine ' and ycl I could not know she was my 
sister; and now I sec she looked so like mv mother! 1 
A.nd Isabella wept, and not alone; Sophia wept, and the 
strong man, Michael, mingled his tears with theirs. '(Mi 
Lord,' inquired Isabella, ' what is this slavery, that it; can 
do such dreadful things'? what evil can it no1 (I".'' Well 
may she ask; for surelj the evils it can and does do, 
daily and hourly, can never be summed up, till we can see 
them as thev are recorded lev him wh<» writes no errors, 
and reckons without mistake. This account, which now 
varies so widely iii the estimate of differcnl minds, will 
be \ iewed alike by all. 

Think you, dear reader, "when thai da) comes, the most 
' rabid abolitionisl ' will sav — ' Behold, I saw all this w hile 
on the earth?' Will he not rather say. 'Oh, who lias 
conceived the breadth and depth of this moral malaria, 
this putrescent plaguc-spol V Perhaps the pioneer- in 
the slave's cause will be as much surprised as any to find 
that with all their looking, there remained so much 

unseen. 



GLEANINGS. 

There are some hard things that crossed Isabella's life 
while in slavery, thai she lias no desire to publish, for va- 
rious reasons. First, because the parties from whose 
hands she suffered them have rendered up their account 
6 



82 NARRATIVE OF 

to a higher trib anal, and their innocent friends alone arc 
living, to have their feelings injured by the recital ; sec- 
ondly, because they are not all for the public ear, from 
their very nature ; thirdly, and not least, because, she 
says, were she to tell all that happened to her as a slave 
■ — all that she knows is 'God's truth' — it would seem to 
others, especially the uninitiated, so unaccountable, so un- 
reasonable, and what is usually called so unnatural, 
(though it may be questioned whether people do not 
always act naturally,) they would not easily believe it. 
' Why, no !' she says, 'they'd call me a liar ! they would, 
indeed ! and I do not wish to say anything to destroy my 
own character for veracity, though what I say is strictly 
true.' Some things have been omitted through forget- 
fulness, which not having been mentioned in their places, 
can only be briefly spoken of here ; — such as, that her 
father Bomcfree had had two wives before he took Man 
man Bett ; one of whom, if not both, were torn from him 
by the iron hand of the ruthless trafficker in human flesh ; 
■ — that her husband, Thomas, after one of his wives had 
been sold away from him, ran away to New York City, 
where he remained a year or two, before he was dis- 
covered and taken back to the prison-house of slavery ; 
— that her master Dumont, when he promised Isabella 
one year of her time, before the State should make her 
free, made the same promise to her husband, and in ad- 
dition to freedom, they were promised a log cabin for a 
home of their own ; all of which, with the one-thousand- 
and-one day-dreams resulting therefrom, went into the re- 
pository of unfulfilled promises and unrealized hopes ;— 
that she had often heard her father repeat a thrilling 
story of a little slave-child, which, because it annoyed 
the family with its cries, was caught up by a white man, 



0J01 i:\i.i: i i:i I ir. 8.°, 

who dashed its brains onl against Lhc wall. An Fndian 
(for Indians were plenty in thai region then) passed along 
as the bereaved mother washed the bloody corpse of her 
murdered child, and learning the cause of its death, said, 
with characteristic vehemence, 'If I had been here, I 
would have put trn tomahawk in his head ! ' mcaninjrthc 
murderer's. 

Of the cruelfrs of one I rasbrouck, — Tie had m sick slave- 
woman, who was lingering with a slow consumption, 
whom In 1 made t<> spin, regardless <>f her weakness and 
suflering ; and this woman had a child, thai was unable to 
walk or talk, at the age of five years, neither could ii cry 
like other children, bu1 made a constant, piteous, moan- 
ing sound. This exhibition of helplessness and imbecil- 
ity, instead of exciting the master's pity, stung his cupid- 
ity, and so enraged him, that he would kick the poor 
thing aboul like a foot-ball. 

Isabella's informant had seen this brute of a man, when 
the child was curled up under a chair, innocently amusing 
itself with a few sticks, drag it thence, thai he mighl have 
the pleasure of tormenting it. She had seen him, with one 
blow of his toot, send it rolling quite across the room, and 
down the steps at the door. Oh, how she wished it might 
instantly die! 'But,' she said, ' it seemed as tough as a 
moccasin.' Though ii did die at last, and made glad the 
heart of its friends ; and its persecutor, no doubt, rejoiced 
with them, but from very diflerenl motives. Bui theday 
of his retribution was nol far off — for he sickened, and his 
reason fled. It was fearful to hear his old slave soon tell 
how, in the da) of his calamity, she treated him. 

She was \ri-\ strong, and was therefore selected to sup- 
port her master, as he sat up in bed, by putting her arms 
around, while she stood behind him. It was then that she 



84 NARRATIVE OF 

did her best to wreak her vengeance on him. She would 
clutch his feeble frame in her iron grasp, as in a vice ; 
and, when her mistress did not see, would give him a 
squeeze, a shake, and lifting him up, set him down again, 
as hard as possible. If his breathing betrayed too tight a 
grasp, and her mistress said, 'Be careful, don't hurt him, 
Soan !' her ever-ready answer was, ' Oh no, Missus, no,' 
in her most pleasant tone — and then, as soon as Missus's 
eyes and cars were engaged away, another grasp — another 
shake — another bounce. She was afraid the disease alone 
would let him recover, — an event she dreaded more than 
to do wrong herself. Isabella asked her, if she were not 
afraid his spirit would haunt her. ' Oh, no,' says Soan ; 
' Kc was so wicked, the devil will never let him out of hell 
long enough for that.' 

Many slaveholders boast of the love of their slaves. 
How would it freeze the blood of some of them to know 
what kind of love rankles in the bosoms of slaves for 
them ! Witness the attempt to poison Mrs. Calhoun, and 
hundreds of similar cases. Most ' surprising ' to every 
body, because committed by slaves supposed to be so 
grateful for their chains. 

These reflections bring to mind a discussion on this 
point, between the writer and a slaveholding friend in 
Kentucky, on Christmas morning, 184G. We had as- 
serted, that until mankind were fir in advance of what 
they now are, irresponsible power over our fellow-beings 
would be, as it is, abused. Our friend declared it his 
conviction, that the cruelties of slavery existed chiefly m 

imagination, and that no person in D County, where we 

then were, but would be above ill-treating a helpless slave. 
We answered, that if his belief was well-founded, the peo- 
ple in Kentucky were greatly in advance of the people of 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 85 

New England— for we would nol dare saj aa much 
thai of an) school-district there, letting alone counti* . 

No, we would not answer for our own c luct even on so 

delicate a point. 

The next evening, he very magnanimously overthrew 
his own position and established ours, by informing us 
that, mi the morning previous, and as near as we could 
learn, at the very hour in which we were earnestly dis- 
cussing the probabilities of the ease, a young woman of 
fine appearance, and high standing in society, the pride of 
her husband, and the mother of an infant daughter, only 

a few miles from us, ay, in D County, too, was 

actually beating in the skull of a slave-woman called 
Tabby; and not content with that, had her tied up and 
whipped, after her skull was broken, and she died hanging 
to the bedstead, to which she had been fastened. When 
informed that Tabby was dead, she answered, 'I am glad 
of it, for she has worried my life out of me.' But Tab- 
by's highest good was probably not the end proposed by 

Mrs. M , for no one supposed she meant to kill her. 

Tabby was considered quite larking in good sense, and no 
doubt belonged to that elass at the South, that are silly 
enough to 'die of moderate correction.' 

A mob collected around the house for an hour or two, 
in that manner expressing a momentary indignation. But 
was she treated as a murderess ? Not at all ! She was 
allowed to take boat (for her residence was near the beau- 
tiful Ohio) that evening, to spend a few months with b 
absent friends, after which she returned and remained 
with her husband, no one to 'molest or make her afraid.' 

Had she been left to the punishment of an Outraged con- 
science from right motives. 1 would have l rejoiced with 
exceeding joy.' But to see the life of one woman, and sho 



86 NARRATIVE OF 

a murderess, put in the balance against the lives of three 
millions of innocent slaves, and to contrast her punish- 
ment with what I felt would be the punishment of one 
who was merely suspected of being an equal friend of all 
mankind, regardless of color or condition, caused my 
blood to stir within me, and my heart to sicken at the 

thought. The husband of Mrs. M was absent from 

home, at the time alluded to ; and when he arrived, some 
weeks afterwards, bringing beautiful presents to his cher- 
ished companion, he beheld his once happy home deserted, 
Tabby murdered and buried in the garden, and the wife 
of his bosom, and the mother of his child, the doer of the 
dreadful deed, a murderess ! 

When Isabella went to New York city, she went in 
company with a Miss Grear, who introduced her to the 
family of Mr. James Latourette, a wealthy merchant, and 
a Methodist in religion ; but who, the latter part of his 
life, felt that he had outgrown ordinances, and advocated 
free meetings, holding them at his own dwelling-house fur 
several years previous to his death. She worked for 
them, and they generously gave her a home while she 
labored for others, and in their kindness made her as one 
of their own. 

At that time, the 'moral reform'' movement was 
awakening the attention of the benevolent in that city. 
Many women, among whom were Mrs. Latourette and 
Miss Grear, became deeply interested in making an at- 
tempt to reform their fallen sisters, even the most de- 
graded of them ; and in this enterprise of labor and dan- 
ger, they enlisted Isabella and others, who for a time put 
forth their most zealous efforts, and performed the work 
of missionaries with much apparent success. Isabella 
accompanied those ladies to the most wretched abodes of 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 87 

vice and misery, and sometimes she went where they 
dared not follow. ThoyVren succeeded in establishing 
prayer-meetings in several places, where such a thing 
might least have been expected. 

But these meetings soon became the most noisy, shouting, 
ranting, and boisterous of gatherings; where they became 
delirious with excitement, and then exhausted from over- 
action. Such meetings Isabel had not much sympathy 
with, at best. But one evening Bhe attended one of them, 
where the members of it, in a lit of ecstasy, jumped upon 
her cloak in such a manner as t<> drag her to the floor — 
and then, thinking she had fallen in a spiritual trance, they 
increased their glorifications on her account, — jumping, 
shouting, stamping, and clapping of hands; rejoicing so 
much o\ er her spirit, and so entirely overlooking her bud v, 
that she suffered much, Loth from fear and bruises; and 
ever after refused to attend any more such meetings, doubt- 
ing much whether Cod had any thing to do with such 
worship. 



THE MATTHIAS DELUSION. 

We now come to an eventful period in the lit'-' <•!' Isa- 
bella, as identified with one of the most extraordinary re- 
ligious delusions of modern times; hut the limits pre- 
scribed for the present work forbid a minute narration of 
all the occurrences that transpired in relation to it. 

Alter she had joined the African Church in Church 
street, and during her membership there, she frequently 
attended Mr. Latourette's meetings, at one of which, Mr. 
Smith invited her to g<> to a prayer-meeting, or to instruct 
the girls at the Magdalene Asylum, Bowery Hill, then un- 
der the protection of Mr. Pierson, and some other p 



88 NAREATIVE OF 

chiefly respectable females. To reach the Asylum, Isa- 
bella called on Katy, Mr. Pieison's colored servant, of 
whom she had some knowledge. Mr. Pierson saw her 
there, conversed with her, asked her if she had been bap- 
tized, and was answered, characteristically, ' by the Holy 
Ghost.' After this, Isabella saw Katy several times, and 
occasionally Mr. Pierson, who engaged her to keep his 
house while Katy went to Virginia to see her children. 
This engagement was considered an answer to prayer by 
Mr. Pierson, who had both fasted and prayed on the sub- 
ject, while Katy and Isabella appeared to see in it the 
hand of God. 

Mr. Pierson was characterized by a strong devotional 
spirit, which finally became highly fanatical. He assumed 
the title of Prophet, asserting that God had called him in 
an omnibus, in these words: — 'Thou art Elijah, the Tish- 
bite. Gather unto me all the members of Israel at the 
foot of Mount Carmel' ; which he understood as meaning 
the gathering of his friends at Bowery Hill. Not long 
afterward, he became acquainted with the notorious Mat- 
thias, whose career was as extraordinary as it was brief. 
Robert Matthews, or Matthias, (as he was usually called,) 
w r as of Scotch extraction, but a native of Washington 
county, New York, and at that time about forty-seven years- 
of age. He was religiously brought up, among the Anti- 
Burghers, a sect of Presbyterians ; the clergyman, the Rev. 
Mr. Bevridge, visiting the family after the manner of the 
church, and being pleased with Robert, put Ins hand on 
his head, when a boy, and pronounced a blessing, and this 
blessing, with his natural qualities, determined his charac 
ter ; for he ever after thought he should be a distinguished 
man. Matthias was brought up a farmer till nearly eigh- 
teen years of age, but acquired indirectly the art of a car- 



SOJOURNER TRUTH, 89 

pentcr, without any regular apprenticeship, and Bhowed 
considerable mechanical skill. 1 !*• obtained property from 
his uncle, Robcrl Thompson, and then he went into busi- 
ness as a store-keeper, was considered respectable, and 
became a member of the Scotch Presb^ tcrian Church. 1 1- 
married in 1813, and continued in business in Cambridge. 
In 1816, he ruined himself b} a building speculation, ami 
the derangcmenl of the currency which denied bank facili- 
ties, and soon after In- came t<> New York with his family, 
and worked ai his trade. He afterwards removed to Al- 
bany, an«l became a hearer at the Dutch Reformed ( Jhurch, 
thm under Dr. Ludlow's charge. H 3 was frequently much 
excited on religious subjects. 

In 1829, he was well known, if not for street preaching, 
for loud discussions and pavement exhortations, but he 
did not make set sermons. In the beginning of 18o0, he 
was only considered zealous; but in the same year he 
prophesied the destruction of the Albanians and their 
capital, and while preparing to shave, witli the Bible be- 
fore him, he suddenly put down the soap and exclaimed, 
1 I have found it ! 1 have found a text which proves that 
no man who shaves his beard can be a true Christian;' 
and shortly afterwards, without shaving, he went to the 
Mission House to deliver an address which he had prom- 
ised, and in this address he proclaimed his new character, 
pronounced vengeance on the land, and that the law of 
God was the only rule of government, and thai he was 
commanded to take possession of the world in the name 
of the King of kings. Ili> harangue was cut short by the 
trustees putting out the lights. About this time, Mat- 
thias laid by his implements of industry, and in dune, he 
advised his wife to il\ with him from the destruction 
which awaited them in the city; and on her refusal, 



90 NARRATIVE OF 

partly on account of Matthias calling himself a Jew, 
whom she was unwilling to retain as a husband, he left 
her, taking some of the children to his sister in Argyle, 
forty miles from Albany. At Argyle he entered the 
church and interrupted the minister, declaring the con- 
gregation in darkness, and warning them to repentance. 
He was, of course, taken out of the church, and as he was 
advertised in the Albany papers, he was sent back to his 
family. His beard had now obtained a respectable 
length, and thus he attracted attention, and easily ob- 
tained an audience in the streets. For this he was some- 
times arrested, once by mistake for Adam Paine, who 
collected the crowd, and then left Matthias with it on the 
approach of the officers. He repeatedly urged his wife 
to accompany him on a mission to convert the world, de- 
claring that food could be obtained from the roots of the 
forest, if not administered otherwise. At this time he 
assumed the name of Matthias, called himself a Jew, and 
set out on a mission, taking a western course, and visit- 
ing a brother at Rochester, a skilful mechanic, since dead. 
Leaving his brother, he proceeded on his mission over 
the Northern States, occasionally returning to Albany. 

After visiting Washington, and passing through Penn- 
sylvania, he came to New York. His appearance at that 
time was mean, but grotesque, and his sentiments were 
but little known. 

On May the 5th, 1832, he first called on Mr. Pierson, 
in Fourth street, in his absence. Isabella was alone in 
the house, in which she had lived since the previous au- 
tumn. On opening the door, she, for the first time, be- 
held Matthias, and her early impression of seeing Jesus 
in the flesh rushed into her mind. She heard liis inquiry, 
and invited him into the parlor ; and being naturally cu- 



B0J01 RNBR TBI TH. 91 

rious, an.l much excited, and possessing a good deal of 
tact, she drew him into conversation, stated her own 
opinions, and heard his replies and explanations. Her 
faith was at firsl staggered by his declaring himself a 
Jew; but on this point she was relieved bj his saying, 
'Do you not remember how Jesus prayed?' and re- 
peated part of the Lord's prayer, in proof that the 
Tallin's kingdom was to come, and not the Son's. She 
then understood him to be a converted Jew, and in the 
conclusion she says she 'felt as if God had sent him to 
set up the kingdom.' Thus Matthias at once secured the 
good will of Isabella, and we may suppose obtained from 
her some information in relation to Mr. Pierson, espe- 
cially that Mrs. Pierson declared there was no true 
church, and approved of Mr. Pierson's preaching. Mat- 
thias left the house, promising to return on Saturday 
evening. Mr. P. at this time had not seen Matthias. 

Isabella, desirous of hearing the expected conversation 
between Matthias and Mr. Pierson on Saturday, hurried 
her work, got it finished, and was permitted to be present 
Indeed, the sameness of belief made her familiar with 
her employer, while her attention to her work, and cha- 
racteristic faithfulness, increased his confidence. This in- 
timacy, the result of holding the same faith, and the 
principle afterwards adopted of having but one table, and 
all things in common, made her at once the domestic and 
the equal, and the depositary of very curious, if not valua 
ble information. To thisobject, even her color assisted. 
Persons who have travelled in the South know the man- 
ner in which the colored people, and especially slaves, 
are treated ; they are scarcely regarded as being present. 
This trait in our American character has been frequently 
noticed by foreign travellers. One English lady remarks 



92 NARRATIVE OF 

that she discovered, in course of conversation with a 
Southern married gentleman, that a colored girl slept in 
his bedroom, in which also was his wife ; and when he 
saw that it occasioned some surprise, he remarked, 
' What would he do if he wanted a glass of water in the 
night 1 ?' Other travellers have remarked that the presence 
of colored people never seemed to interrupt conversation 
of any kind for one moment. Isabella, then, was present 
at the first interview between Matthias and Pierson. At 
this interview, Mr. Pierson asked Matthias if he had a 
family, to which he replied in the affirmative ; he asked 
him about his heard, and he gave a scriptural reason, as- 
serting also that the Jews did not shave, and that Adam 
had a beard. Mr. Pierson detailed to Matthias his ex- 
perience, and Matthias gave his, and they mutually dis- 
covered that they held the same sentiments, both admit- 
ting the direct influence of the Spirit, and the transmission 
of spirits from one body to another. Matthias admitted 
the call of Mr. Pierson, in the omnibus in Wall street, 
which, on this occasion, he gave in these words : — ' Thou 
art Elijah the Tishbite, and thou shalt go before me in 
the spirit and power of Elias, to prepare my way before 
me.' And Mr. Pierson admitted Matthias' call, who 
completed his declaration on the 20th of June, in Argyle, 
which, by a curious coincidence, was the very day on 
which Pierson had received his call in the omnibus. 
Such singular coincidences have a powerful effect on ex- 
cited minds. Prom that discovery, Pierson and Matthias 
rejoiced in each other, and became kindred spirits — Mat- 
thias, however, claiming to be the Father, or to possess 
the spirit of the rather — he was God upon earth, because 
the spirit of God dwelt in him ; while Pierson then un- 
derstood that his mission was like that of Jolm the Bap- 



0J01 RNEB i i;i i ii. 93 

last, which th( rain.- Elias meant. This conference ended 
with an invitation to supper, and Matthias and Picrson 
washing each other's feet. Mr. Picrson preached on the 
following Sunday, bul after which, he declined in favor of 
Matthias, and some of the party believed that the 'king- 
dom had then come. 

A.s a specimen of Matthias' preaching and sentiments, 
the following is said i<> be reliable: 

'The spirit thai built the Tower of Babel is now in the 
world— it is the spirit ofthedevil. The spirit of man 
never goes upon the clouds; all who think soare Babylo- 
nians. The only heaven is on the earth. All who arc 
ignorant oftruthare Ninevites. TheJews did not cru- 
cify Christ— it wasthe Gentiles. Every Jew has his 
guardian angel attending him in this world. God don't 
speak through preachers; he speaks through me, his 
prophet. 

'"John the Baptist," (addressing Arr. Pin-son,) "read 
the tenth chapter of Revelations." After the reading of 
the chapter, the prophet resumed speaking, as follows: — 

' Ours is the mustard-see. I kingdom which is to spread 
all over the earth. Our creed is truth, and no man can 
find truth unless he obeys John the Baptist, and com.s 
clean into the church. 

* All real men will he saved; all mock men will be 
damned. When a person has the Holy Ghost, then he is 
a man, and .pot till then. They who teach women are of 
the wicked. The communion is all nonsense; so is 
prayer. Eating a nip of bread and drinking a lit lie wine 
won't do any good. All who admit members into their 
church, and suffer them to hold their lands and houses, 
their sentence is,"Depart 3 ye wicked, I know you not." 
All females who lecture their husbands, their sentence U 



94 NARRATIVE OF 

the same. The sons of truth are to enjoy all the good 
things of this world, and must use their means to bring 
it about. Every thing that has the smell of woman will 
be destroyed. Woman is the capsheaf of the abomina- 
tion of desolation — full of all deviltry. In a short time, 
the world will take fire and dissolve ; it is combustible 
already. All women, not obedient, had better become 
so as soon as possible, and let the wicked spirit depart, 
and become temples of truth. Praying is all mocking. 
When you see any one wring the neck of a fowl, instead 
of cutting otT its head, he has not got the Holy Ghost. 
(Cutting gives the least pain.) 

' All who cat swine's flesh are of the devil ; and just as 
certain as he eats it, he will tell a lie in less than half an 
hour. If you eat a piece of pork, it will go crooked 
through you, and the Holy Ghost will not stay in you, 
but one or the other must leave the house pretty soon. 
The pork will be as crooked in you as rams' horns, and 
as great a nuisance as the hogs in the street. 

1 The cholera is not the right word ; it is cholcr, which 
means God's wrath. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are now 
in this world ; they did not go up in the clouds, as some 
believe — why should they go there 1 They 'don't want to 
go there to box the compass from one place to another. 
The Christians now-a-days are for setting up the Soil's 
kingdom. It is not his ; it is the Fathers kingdom. It 
puts me in mind of the man in the country, who took his 
son in business, and had his sign made, " Hitchcock & ► 
Son ;" but the son wanted it " Hitchcock & Father " — and 
that is the way with your Christians. They talk of the 
Son's kingdom first, and not the Father's kingdom.' 

Matthias and his disciples at this time did not believe 
in a resurrection of the body, but that the spirits of the 



SOJOURNER ti:i TIT. 9fi 

rormer saints would enter the bodies of the pre enl gen 
eration, and thus begin heaven upon earth, of \\ hich he and 
Mr, Picrson were the first fruits. 

Matthias made the residence of Mr. Picrson his own; 
bul the latter, being apprehensive of popular violence in 
his house, if Matthias remained there, proposed a monthly 
allowance to him, and advised him to occupy another 
dwelling. Matthias accordingly took a house in Clark- 
son street, and then sent for his familj al Albany, bul 
they declined coming to the city. However, his bro- 
ther George complied with a similar offer, bringing his 
family with him, where they found very comfortable 
quarters. Isabella was employed to do the housework. 
In May,1833, Matthias left his house, and placed the fur. 
nitmv. |»art of which was Isabella's, elsewhere, living him- 
self a1 the hotel corner of Marketfield and West streets. 
Isabella found employment at Mr. Whiting's, Canal 
street, and did the washing for Matthias by Mrs. Whit- 
ing's permission. 

( )t" the subsequenl removal ofMatthias to the farm and 
residence of Mr. B. Folger, a1 Sing Sing, where he was 
joined by Mr. Pierson, and others laboring under a simi- 
lar religious delusion — the sudden, melancholy and 
somewhat suspicious death of Mr. Pierson, and the arresl 
of Matthias on the charge of his murder, ending in a 
verdicl of nol guilty — the criminal connection that sub- 
sisted between Matthias, Mrs. Folger, and other mem- 
bes of the • Kingdom,' as 'match-spirits' — the final dis- 
pcrson of this deluded company, and the voluntary 
exilement ofMatthias in the far West, after hisreleas< — 
&c 6sc, we do not deem it useful or necessary to give 
am particulars. Those who are curious to know what 
there transpired are referred to a work published in New 



9G -NArfRATrVJfl OF 

York in 1835, entitled ' Fanaticism ; its Sources and In- 
fluence; illustrated by the simple Narrative of Isabella, 
in the case of Matthias, Mr. and Mrs. B. Folger, Mr. 
Pierson, Mr. Mills, Catharine, Isabella, &c. &c. By 
G. Vale, 84 Roosevelt street.' Suffice it to say, that 
while Isabella was a member of the household at Sing 
Sing, doing much laborious service in the spirit of religi- 
ous disinterestedness, and gradually getting her vision 
purged and her mind cured of its illusions, she happily 
escaped the contamination that surrounded her, — assid 
uously endeavoring to discharge all her duties in a be- 



coming manner. 



When Isabella resided with Mr. Pierson, he was in the 
habit of fasting every Friday ; not eating or drinking 
anything from Thursday evening to six o'clock on Friday 



evening. 



Then, again, he would fast two nights and three days, 
neither eating nor drinking; refusing himself even a cup 
of cold water till the third day at night, when he took 
supper again, as usual. 

Isabella asked him why he fasted. He answered, that 
fasting gave him great light in the things of God; which 
answer gave birth to the following train of thought in 
the mind of his auditor: — ' Well, if tasting will give light 
inwardly and spiritually, I need it as much as any body, 
— and I'll fast too. If Mr. Pierson needs to fast two 
nights and three days, then I, who need light more than 
he does, ought to fast more, and I will fast three nights 
and three days. ' 

This resolution she carried out to the letter, putting 



FASTING. 






BOJOURNEB J RUTH. 97 

not so much as a drop of water in ber mouth 
three whole days and nights. The fourth morning,as 

to Ikt feet, not liaving power to Btand, Bhe fell to 
the floor; bul recovering herself sufficiently, Bhe made 
her way to the pantry, and feeling herself quite voracious, 
and fearing that Bhe might now offend God by her vora- 
city, compelled herself to breakfast ondry bread and w. 
— eating a large six-penny loaf before she felt at all stay- 
ed or satisfied. She says she did get light, but it Mas all 
in Ikt body and none in her mind — and this lightness of 
body lasted a longtime. Oh! she was so light, and felt s i 
well, she could • skim around like a gull.' 



THE CAUSE OF HER LEAVING THE CITY. 

The first years spent by Isabella in the city, she accu- 
mulated more than enough to supply all her wants, and 
she placed all the overplus in the Savings' Bank. After- 
wards, while living with Mr. Pierson, he prevailed on her 
to take it thence, and invest it in a common fund which 
he was about establishing, as a fund to be drawn from by 
all the faithful; the faithful, of course, were the handful 
that should subscribe to his peculiar creed. This fund, 
commenced by Mr. Pierson. afterwards became part and 
parcel of the kingdom of which Matthias assumed to be 
bead ; and at the breaking up of the kingdom, her little 
property was merged in the general ruin — or went to en- 
rich those who profited by the loss of others, if any such 
there w T ere. Mr. Pierson and others had so assured her, 
that the fund would supply all her wants, at all til. 
and in all emergencies, and to the end of life, that she 
became perfectly careless on the subject — asking for no 
interest when she drew her money from the bank, and 



98 NARRATIVE OF 

taking no account of the sum she placed in the fund. 
She recovered a few articles of furniture from the wreck 
of the kingdom, and received a small sum of money 
from Mr. B. Folger, as the price of Mrs. Folger's attempt 
to convict her of murder. With this to start upon, she 
commenced anew her labors, in the hope of yet being 
able to accumulate a sufficiency to make a little home 
for herself, in her advancing age. With this stimulus 
before her, she toiled hard, working early and late, doing 
a great deal for a little money, and turning her hand to 
almost any thing that promised good pay. Still, she did 
not prosper ; and somehow, could not contrive to lay by 
a single dollar for a ' rainy day.' 

When this had been the state of her affairs some time, 
she suddenly paused, and taking a retrospective view of 
what had passed, inquired within herself, why it was that, 
for all her unwearied labors, she had nothing to show ; 
why it was that others, with much less care and labor, 
could hoard up treasures for themselves and children 1 
She became more and more convinced, as she reasoned, 
that every thing she had undertaken in the city of New York 
had finally proved a failure ; and where her hopes had 
been raised the highest, there she felt the failure had been 
the greatest, and the disappointment most severe. 

After turning it in her mind for some time, she came 
to the conclusion, that she had been taking part in a great 
drama, which was, in itself, but one great system of rob- 
bery and wrong. c Yes,' she said, ' the rich rob the poor, 
and the poor rob one another.' True, she had not receiv- 
ed labor from others, and stinted their pay, as she felt 
had been practised against her ; but she had taken their 
work from them, which was their only means to get 
money, and was the sama to them in the end. For in- 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. !>f) 

stance — a gentleman where she lived would give her a 
half dollar to hire a poor man to clear the new-fallen 

snow from the steps and side-walks. She would arise 
early, and perform the labor herself, putting the money 
into her own pocket. A poor man would come along, 
saying she ought to have let him have the job ; he was 
poor, and needed the pay for his family. She would har- 
den her heart against him, and answer — ' I am poor too, 
and I need it for mine.' But, in her retrospection, she 
thought of all the misery she might have been adding to, 
in her selfish grasping, and it troubled her conscience 
sorely ; and this insensibility to the claims of human 
brotherhood, and the wants of the destitute and wretched 
poor, she now saw, as she never had done before, to be 
unfeeling, selfish and wicked. These reflections and con- 
victions gave rise to a sudden revulsion of feeling in the 
heart of Isabella, and she began to look upon money and 
property with great indifference, if not contempt — being 
at that time unable, probably, to discern any difference 
between a miserly grasping at and hoarding of money 
and means, and a true use of the good things of this life 
for one's own comfort, and the relief of such as she 
might be enabled to befriend and assist. One thins she 
was sure of — that the precepts, ' Do unto others as ye 
would that others should do unto you,' ' Love your neigh- 
bor as yourself,' and so forth, were maxims that had 
been but little thought of by herself, or practised by 
those about her. 

Her next decision was, that she must leave the city ; 
it was no place for her ; yea, she felt called in spirit to 
leave it, and to travel east and lecture. She had never 
been further east than the city, neither had she any friends 
there of whom she had particular reason to expect any 



100 NAKRATIVE OF 

thing; yet to her it was plain thai, her mission lay in the 

east, and that she would find friends there. She deter- 
mined on leaving ; but these determinations and convic- 
tions she kept close locked in her own breast, knowing 
that if her children and friends were aware of it, they would 
make such an ado about it as would render it very un- 
pleasant, if not distressing to all parties. Having made 
what preparations for leaving she deemed necessary, — 
which was, to put up a few articles of clothing in a pil- 
low-case, all else being deemed an unnecessary incum- 
brance, — about an hour before she left, she informed Mrs. 
Whiting, the woman of the house where she was stopping, 
that her name was no longer Isabella, but Sojourner ; 
and that she was going east. And to her inquiry, 'What 
are you going east for V her answer was, ' The Spirit calls 
me there, and I must go.' 

She left the city on the morning of the 1st of June, 
1843, crossing over to Brooklyn, L. I. ; and taking the 
rising sun for her only compass and guide, she ' remem- 
bered Lot's wife,' and hoping to avoid her fate, she re- 
solved not to look back till she felt sure the wicked city 
from which she was fleeing was left too far behind to be visi- 
ble in the distance ; and when she first ventured to look 
back, she could just discern the blue cloud of smoke that 
hung over it, and she thanked the Lord that she was thus 
far removed from what seemed to her a second Sodom. 

She was now fairly started on her pilgrimage ; her 
bundle in one hand, and a little basket of provisions in 
the other, and two York shillings in her purse — her heart 
strong in the faith that her true work lay before her, and 
that the Lord was her director ; and she doubted not he 
would provide for and protect her, and that it would be 
very censurable in her to burden herself with any thing 



SOJOUENEB TRUTH. 101 

than a moderate supply for her then present needs. 
Her mission was nol merely to travel east, but to 'lec- 
ture,' as she designated it ; ' testifying of the hope that 
was in her' — exhorting the people to embrace Jesus, and 
refrain from sin. the nature and origin of which she ex- 
plained to thrni in accordance with her own most curious 
I original views. Through her life, an. I all its chequer- 
i-lian-vs. she has ever clung fasl to her first permanent 
impressions on religious subjects. 

Wherever night overtook her, there she sought foi 
lodgings — free, if she mighl — if net, she paid; at a 
tavern, if she chanced to be at one — if not, at a private 
dwelling ; with the rich, if they would receive her — if not, 
with the poor. 

But she soon discovered that the largest houses were 
nearly always full ; if not quite full, company was soon 
expected ; and that it was much easier to find an unoc- 
cupied corner in a small house than in a large one ; and 
if a person possessed hut a miserable roof over his head, 
i might be sure of a welcome to part of it. 

But this, she had penetration enough to see, was quite 
as much the effect of a want of sympathy as of benevo- 
lence ; and this was also very apparent in her religious 
conversations with people who were strangers to her. She 
said, ' she never could find out that the rich had any re- 
ligion. If /had been rich and accomplished, I could ; for 
the rich could always find religion in the rich, and / could 
find it among the poor.' 

At first, she attended such meetings as she heard of, in 
the vicinity of her travels, and spoke to the people as she 
found them assembled. Afterwards, she advertised meet- 
ings of her own, and held forth to large audiences, hav- 
ing, as she said, ' a good time.' 



102 NARRATIVE OF 

When she became weary of travelling, and wished a 
place to stop a while and rest herself, she said some open- 
ing for her was always near at hand ; and the first time 
she needed rest, a man accosted her as she was walking, 
inquiring if she was looking for work. She told him that 
was not the object of her travels, but that she would will- 
ingly work a few days, if any one wanted. He requested 
her to go to his family, who were sadly in want of assist- 
ance, which he had been thus far unable to supply. She 
went to the house where she. was directed, and was re- 
ceived by his family, one of whom was ill, as a ' God- 
send ;' and when she felt constrained to resume her jour- 
ney, they were very sorry, and would fain have detained 
her longer ; but as she urged the necessity of leaving, 
they offered her what seemed in her eyes a great deal of 
money as a remuneration for her labor, and an expression 
of their gratitude for her opportune assistance ; but she 
would only receive a very little of it ; enough, as she 
says, to enable her to pay tribute to Caesar, if it was de- 
manded of her ; and two or three York shillings at a time 
were all she allowed herself to take ; and then, with purse 
replenished, and strength renewed, she would once more 
set out to perform her mission. 

THE CONSEQUENCES OF REFUSING A TRAVELLER A 

night's LODGING. 

As she drew near the centre of the Island, she com- 
menced, one evening at nightfall, to solicit the favor of a 
night's lodging. She had repeated her request a great 
many, it seemed to her some twenty times, and as many 
times she received a negative answer. She walked 02, 
the stars and the tiny horns ol the new moon shed but a 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 10 

dim light on her Lonely way, when she was familiarly ac- 
costed by two Indians, who took her for an acquaintan 
She told them they were mistaken in the person; she 
was a stranger there, and asked them the direction 1 
tavern. They informed her it was yet a long way — -Mine 
two miles or so ; and inquired if she were alone. Not 
wishing for their protection, or knowing what might be 
the character of their kindness, she answered, * No, 
exactly,' and passed on. At the end of a weary way. she 
came to the tavern, — or, rather, to a large building, which 
was occupied as court-house, tavern, and jail, — and on 
asking for a night's lodging, was informed she could stay, 
if she would consent to be locked in. This to her mind 
was an insuperable objection. To have a key turned on 
her was a thing not to be thought of, at least not to be 
endured, and she again took up her line of march, prefer- 
ring to walk beneath the open sky, to being locked up by 
a stranger in such a place. She had not walked far, be- 
fore she heard the voice of a woman under an open shed ; 
she ventured to accost her, and inquired if she knew 
where she could get in for the night. The woman an- 
swered, that she did not, unless she went home with them ; 
and turning to her 'good man,' asked him if the strai _■ 
could not share their home for the night, to which he 
cheerfully assented. Sojourner thought it evident he had 
been taking a drop too much, but as he was civil and 
good-natured, and she did not feel inclined to spend the 
night alone in the open air, she felt driven to the neces- 
sity of accepting their hospitality, whatever it might prove 
to be. The woman soon informed her that there was a 
ball in the place, at which they would like to drop in a 
while, before they went to their home. 

Balls being no part of Sojourner's mission, she was not 



104: NARRATIVE OF 

desirous of attending ; but her hostess could be satisfied 
with nothing short of a taste of it, and she was forced to 
go with her, or relinquish their company at once, in which 
move there might be more exposure than in accompany- 
ing her. She went, and soon found herself surrounded by 
an assemblage of people, collected from the very dregs 
of society, too ignorant and degraded to understand, 
much less entertain, a high or bright idea, — in a dirty 
hovel, destitute of every comfort, and where the fumes 
of whisky were abundant and powerful. 

Sojourner's guide there was too much charmed with 
the combined entertainments of the place to be able to 
tear herself away, till she found her faculties for enjoy- 
ment failing her, from a too free use of liquor ; and she 
betook herself to bed till she could recover them. So- 
journer, seated in a corner, had time for many reflections, 
and refrained from lecturing them in obedience to the re- 
commendation, ' Cast not your pearls,' &c. When the 
night was far spent, the husband of the sleeping woman 
aroused the sleeper, and reminded her that she was not very 
polite to the woman she had invited to sleep at her house, 
and of the propriety of returning home. They once 
more emerged into the pure air, which to our friend So- 
journer, after so long breathing the noisome air of the 
ball-room, was most refreshing and grateful. Just as day 
dawned, they reached the place they called their home. 
Sojourner now saw that she had lost nothing in the shape 
of rest by remaining so long at the ball, as their miserable 
cabin afforded but one bunk or pallet for sleeping ; and 
had there been many such, she would have preferred sit- 
ting up all night to occupying one like it. They very 
politely offered her the bed, if she would use it ; but 
civilly declining, she waited for morning with an eagerness 



UOJBNEB TBI ; K. 10 

3he never felt before on the subject, and \ 
r more nappy than when the eye of day Bhed its 
l en light once more over the earth. She was once 

3 

more free, and while day-light should last, independent, 
and needed no invitation to pursue her journey. Let 
these facts teach us, that everj pedestrian in the world is 
not a vagabond, and thai it is a dangerous thing to com- 
pel any one to receive that hospitality from the vicious 
and abandoned which they should have received from us, 

— 3 thousands ran testify, who have thus been caught in 
the snares of the wicked. 

The fourth of July, Isabella arrived at Huntingdon; 

from thence she went to Cold Springs, where she found 

the people making preparations for a mass tempera] 

meeting. With her usual alacrity, she entered into their 

_ -1 ting up dishes a la New York, greatly to the 

- -taction of those she assisted. After remaining at Cold 
Springs some three weeks, she returned to Huntingdon, 

-he took boat for Connecticut. Landing at Bridge- 
port, she again resumed her travels towards the north-east, 
_ some, and working some, to get wherewith to 
tribute to Caesar, as she called it ; and in this manner 
she presently came to the city of New Haven, where she 
found many meetings, which she attended — at some of 
which, she was allowed to express her views freely, and 
Without reservation. She also called meetings expressly 
to give herself an opportunity to be heard ; and found in 
the city many true friends of Jesus, as she judged, with 
whom she held communion of spirit, having no preference 
for one sect more than another, but being well satisfied 
frith all who gave her evidence of having known or loved 
tne Saviour. 

After thus delivering her testimony in this pleasant city, 



106 NARRATIVE OF 

feeling she lad not as yet found an abiding place, she went 
from thence to Bristol, at the request of a zealous sister, 
who desired her to go to the latter place, and hold a religious 
conversation with some friends of hers there. She went 
as requested, found the people kindly and religiously dis- 
posed, and through them she became acquainted with 
several very interesting persons. 

A spiritually-minded brother in Bristol, becoming inter- 
ested in her new views and original opinions, requested as 
a favor that she would go to Hartford, to see and converse 
with friends of Ins there. Standing ready to perform any 
service in the Lord, she went to Hartford as desired, bear- 
ing in her hand the following note from this brother : — 

* Sister, — I send you this living messenger, as I believe 
her to be one that God loves. Ethiopia is stretching forth 
her hands unto God. You can see by this sister, that God 
does by his Spirit alone teach his own children things to 
come. Please receive her, and she will tell you some 
new things. Let her tell her story without interrupting 
her, and give close attention, and you will see she has got 
the lever of truth, that God helps her to pry where but 
few can. She cannot read or write, but the law is in 
her heart. 

1 Send her to brother , brother , and where 

she can do the most good. 

' From your brother. II. L. B.' 



SOME OF HER VIEWS AND REASONINGS. 

As soon as Isabella saw God as an all-powerful, all- 
pervading spirit, she became desirous of hearing all that 
had been written of him. ard listened to the account of 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 107 

the creation of the world and its first inhabitants, as con- 
tained in the first chapters of Genesis, with peculiar in- 
terest. For some time she received it all literally, though 
it appeared strange to her that 'God worked by the day, 

got tired, and stopped to rest,' &C. But after a little time, 
she began to reason upon it, thus — ' Why, if God works 

by the dav. and one day's work tires him, and lie is obliged 
to re>t, either lroni weariness or on account of darkn> 33, 
or it* he waited for the "cool of the day to walk in the 
garden,' 1 because he was inconvenienced by the heat of the 
sun, why then it seems that God cannot do as much as / 
can ; for / can bear the sun at noon, and work several 
days and nights in succession without being much tired. 
Or, if he rested nights because of the darkness, it is very 
queer that he should make the night so dark that he could 
not see himself. If / had been God, I would have made 
the night light enough for my own convenience, surely.' 
But the moment she placed this idea of God by the side 
of the impression she had once so suddenly received of 
his inconceivable greatness and entire spirituality, that mo- 
ment she exclaimed mentally, 'No, God does not stop to 
rest, for he is a spirit, and cannot tire ; he cannot want 
for light, for he hath all light in himself. And if " God is 
all in all," and " worketh all in all," as I have heard them 
read, then it is impossible he should rest at all; for if he 
did, every other thing would stop and rest too; the wa- 
ters would not flow, and the fishes could not swim ; and 
all motion must cease. God could have no pauses in his 
work, and he needed no Sabbaths of rest. Man might 
need them, and he should take them when he needed them, 
whenever he required rest. As it regarded the worship 
of God, he was to be worshipped at all times and in all 



108 NARRATIVE OF 

places; and one portion of time never seemed to her 
more holy than another.' 

These views, which were the result of the workings of 
her own mind, assisted solely by the light of her own ex- 
perience and very limited knowledge, were, for a long 
time after their adoption, closely locked in her own breast, 
fearing lest their avowal might bring upon her the impu- 
tation of ' infidelity,' — the usual charge preferred by all 
religionists, against those who entertain religious views 
and feelings differing materially from their own. If, from 
their own sad experience, they are withheld from shout- 
ing the cry of ' infidel,' they fail not to see and to feel, ay, 
and to say, that the dissenters are not of the right spirit, 
and that their spiritual eyes have never been unsealed. 

While travelling in Connecticut, she met a minister, 
with whom she held a long discussion on these points, as 
well as on various other topics, such as the origin of all 
things, especially the origin of evil, at the same time bear- 
ing her testimony strongly against a paid ministry. He 
belonged to that class, and, as a matter of course, as 
strongly advocated his own side of the question. 

I had forgotten to mention, in its proper jDlace, a very 
important fact, that when she was examining the Scrip- 
tures, she wished to hear them without comment ; but if 
she employed adult persons to read them to her, and she 
asked them to read a passage over again, they invariably 
commenced to explain, by giving her their version of it ; 
and in this way, they tried her feelings exceedingly. In 
consequence of this, she ceased to ask adult persons to 
read the Bible to her, and substituted children in their 
stead. Children, as soon as they could read distinctly, 
would re-read the same sentence to her, as often as she 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. L09 

wished, and without comment; and in thai waj she was 
enabled to Bee what her own mind could make out of the 

ord, and that, she said, was what she wanted, and not 
what others thought it to mean. She wished to compare 
the teachings of the Bible with the witness within her ; and 
she came to the conclusion, that the spirit of truth Bpoke 
in those records, but that the recorders of those truths had 
intermingled with them ideas and suppositions of their 
own. This is one among the many proofs of her energy 
and independence of character. 

When it became known to her children, that Sojourner 
had left New York, they were filled with wonder and 
alarm. Where could she have gone, and why had she 
left ? were questions no one could answer satisfactorily. 
Now, their imaginations painted her as a wandering 
maniac — and again they feared she had been left to com- 
mit suicide ; and many were the tears they shed at the 
loss of her. 

But when she reached Berlin, Conn., she wrote to them 
by amanuensis, informing them of her whereabouts, and 
waiting an answer to her letter ; thus quieting their fears, 
and gladdening their hearts once more with assurai 
of her continued life and her love. 



THE SECOND ADVENT DOCTRINES. 

In Hartford and vicinity, she met with several persons 
who believed in the ' Second Advent ' doctrines ; or, the 
immediate personal appearance of Jesus Christ. At 
first she thought she had never heard of ' Second Advent.' 
But when it was explained to her, she recollected having 
once attended Mr. Miller's meeting in New York, where 
she saw a great many enigmatical pictures hanging on 



110 NARRATIVE OF 

the wall, which she could not understand, and which, 
being out of the reach of her understanding, failed to 
interest her. In this section of country, she attended 
two camp-meetings of the believers in these doctrines — 
the ' second advent ' excitement being then at its greatest 
height. The last meeting was at Windsor Lock. The 
people, as a matter of course, eagerly inquired of her 
concerning her belief, as it regarded their most important 
tenet. She told them it had not been revealed to her ; 
perhaps, if she could read, she might see it differently. 
Sometimes, to their eager inquiry, ' Oh, don't you believe 
the Lord is coming V she answered, ' I believe the Lord 
is as near as he can be, and not be it.' With these eva- 
sive and non-exciting answers, she kept their minds calm 
as it respected her unbelief, till she could have an oppor- 
tunity to hear their views fairly stated, in order to judge 
more understandingly of this matter, and see if, in her 
estimation, there was any good ground for expecting an 
event which was, in the minds of so many, as it were, 
shaking the very foundations of the universe. She was 
invited to join them in their religious exercises, and ac- 
cepted the invitation — praying, and talking in her own 
peculiar style, and attracting many about her by her 
singing. 

When she had convinced the people that she was a 
lover of God and his cause, and had gained a good stand- 
ing with them, so that she could get a hearing among 
them, she had become quite sure in her own mind that 
they were laboring under a delusion, and she commenced 
to use her influence to calm the fears of the people, and 
pour oil upon the troubled waters. In one part of the 
grounds, she found a knot of people greatly excited : she 
mounted a stump and called out, ' Hear ! hear !' When 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 11 I 

the people had gathered around 1km-, as they were in a 
state to listen t<> any thing new, she addressed them as 
' children,' and asked them why they made such a* To-do; 
— are you not commanded to "watch and pray?" Tou 
aic neither watching nor prayii u r .' Ami she bade them, 
with the tones of a kind mother, retire to their tents, a 
there watch and pray, without noise or tumult, for the 
Lord would not come to such a scene of confusion ; 'the 
Lord came still and quiet. 1 She assured them, ' the Lord 
might come, move all through the camp, and go away 
again, and they never know it,' in the state they then 
were. 

They seemed glad to seize upon any reason for being 

5S agitated and distressed, and many of them suppress- 
ed their noisy terror, and retired to their tents to ' watch 
and pray;' begging others to do the same, and listen to 
the advice of the good sister. She felt she had done 
some good, and then went to listen further to the preach- 
ers. They appeared to her to be doing their utmost to 
agitate and excite the people, who were already too much 
excited ; and when she had listened till her feelings 
would let her listen silently no longer, she arose and ad- 
dressed the preachers. The following are specimens of 
her speech : — 

' Here you are talking about being " changed in the 
twinkling of an eve." If the Lord should come, he'd 
change you to nothing ! for there is nothing to you. 

' You seem to be expecting to go to some parlor away 
somewhere, and when the wicked have been burnt, 
you are coming back to walk in triumph over their 
ashes — this is to be your New Jerusalem ! ! Now /can't 
see any thing so very nice in that, coming back to such 
a muss as that will be, a world covered with the ashes 



112 NARRATIVE OF 

of the wicked ! Besides, if the Lord comes and burns — 
as you say he will — I am not going away ; / am going 
to stay here and stand the fire, like Shadrach, Meshach, 
and Abednego ! And Jesus will walk with me through 
the fire, and keep me from harm. Nothing belonging to 
God can burn, any more than God himself; such shall 
have no need to go away to escape the fire ! No, 7 shall 
remain. Do you tell me that God's children canH stand 
fireP And her manner and tone spoke louder than 
words, saying, ' It is absurd to think so ! ' 

The ministers were taken quite aback at so unexpected 
an opposer, and one of them, in the kindest possible man- 
ner, commenced a discussion with her, by asking her 
questions, and quoting scripture to her ; concluding 
finally, that although she had learned nothing of the great 
doctrine which was so exclusively occupying their minds 
at the time, she had learned much that man had never 
taught her. 

At this meeting, she received the address of different 
persons, residing in various places, with an invitation to 
visit them. She promised to go soon to Cabotville, 
and started, shaping her course for that place. She ar- 
rived at Springfield one evening at six o'clock, and im- 
mediately began to search for a lodging for the night. 
She walked from six till past nine, and was then on the 
road from Springfield to Cabotville, before she found any 
one sufficiently hospitable to give her a night's shelter 
under their roof. Then a man gave her twenty-five 
cents, and bade her go to a tavern and stay all night. 
She did so, returning in the morning to thank him, assur- 
ing him she had put his money to its legitimate use. 
She found a number of the friends she had seen at "Wind- 
sor when she reached the manufacturing town of Cabot- 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 113 

villc, (which has lately taken the name of Ghicopee,) and 
with them she spent a pleasant week or mure; after 
which, she lett them to visit the Shaker village in En- 
field. She i.ow began to think of finding a resting place, 
at least, for a season ; for she had performed quite a lung 
journey, considering she had walked most of the way ; 
and she had a mind to look in upon the Shakers, and see 
how things were there, and whether there was any open- 
ing there for her. But on her way back to Springfield, 
she called at a house and asked for a piece of bread ; her 
request was granted, and she was kindly invited to tarry 
all night, as it was getting late, and she would not be 
able to stay at every house in that vicinity, which invita- 
tion she cheerfully accepted. When the man of the house 
came in, he recollected having seen her at the camp-meet- 
ing, and repeated some conversations, by wdiich she re- 
cognized him again. He soon proposed having a meeting 
that evening, went out and notified his friends and neigh- 
bors, who came together, and she once more held forth 
to them in her peculiar style. Through the agency of 
this meeting, she became acquainted with several people 
residing in Springfield, to whose houses she was cordially 
invited, and with w r hom she spent some pleasant time. 

One of these friends, writing of her arrival there, speaks 
as follows. After saying that she and her people be- 
longed to that class of persons w r ho believed in the second 
advent doctrines ; and that this class, believing also in 
freedom of speech and action, often found at their meet- 
ings many singular people, who did not agree with them 
in their principal doctrine ; and that, being thus prepared 
to hear new and strange things, ' They listened eagerly to 
Sojourner, and drank in all she said ;' — and also, that she 

* soon became a favorite among them ; that when *he 
8 to 



114 NARRATIVE OF 

arose to speak in their assemblies, her commanding figure 
and dignified manner hushed every trifler into silence, and 
her singular and sometimes uncouth modes of expression 
never provoked a laugh, but often were the whole audi- 
ence melted into tears by her touching stories.' She also 
adds, ' Many were the lessons of wisdom and faith I have 
delighted to learn from her.' . . . . ' She continued a great 
favorite in our meetings, both on account of her remarka- 
ble gift in prayer, and still more remarkable talent for 
singing, . . . and the aptness and point of her remarks, 
frequently illustrated by figures the most original and ex- 
pressive. 

' As we were walking the other day, she said she had 
often thought what a beautiful world this would be, when 
we should see every thing right side up. Now, we see 
every thing topsy-turvy, and all is confusion.' For a per- 
son who knows nothing of this fact in the science of op- 
tics, this seemed quite a remarkable idea. 

' We also loved her for her sincere and ardent piety, 
her unwavering faith in God, and her contempt of what 
the world calls fashion, and what we call folly. 

' She was hi search of a quiet place, where a way-worn 
traveller might rest. She had heard of Fruitlands, and 
was inclined to go there ; but the friends she found here 
thought it best for her to visit Northampton. She passed 
her time, while with us, working wherever her work was 
needed, and talking where work was not needed. 

* She would not receive money for her work, saying 
she worked for the Lord ; and if her wants were sup- 
plied, she received it as from the Lord. 

' She remained with us till far into winter, when we in- 
troduced her at the Northampton Association.' . . . . ' She 
wrote to me from thence, that she had found the quiet 



SOJOURNER TBUTH. 115 

resting place Bhe had so Long desired. And she has ro 
mained there ever since.' 



A NOT I IKK CAMP-MEETING. 

When Sojoumer had been at Northampton a few 
months, she attended another camp-meeting, at which she 
performed a very important part. 

A party of wild young men, with no motive but that 
of entertaining themselves by annoying and injuring the 
feelings of others, had assembled at the meeting, hooting 
and yelling, and in various ways interrupting the services, 
and causing much disturbance. Those who had the charge 
of the meeting, having tried their persuasive powers in 
vain, grew impatient and tried threatening. 

The young men, considering themselves insulted, col- 
lected their friends, to the number of a hundred or more, 
dispersed themselves through the grounds, making the 
most frightful noises, and threatening to fire the tents. It 
was said the authorities of the meeting sat in grave con- 
sultation, decided to have the ring-leaders arrested, and 
sent for the constable, to the great displeasure of some of 
the company, who were opposed to such an appeal to 
force and arms. Be that as it may, Sojourner, seeing 
great consternation depicted in every countenance, caught 
the contagion, and, ere she was aware, found herself 
quaking with fear. 

Under the impulse of this sudden emotion, she fled to 
the most retired corner of a tent, and secreted herself be- 
hind a trunk, saying to herself, ' I am the only colored 
person here, and on me, probably, their wicked mischief 
will fall first, and perhaps fatally.' But feeling how great 
was her insecurity even there, as the very tent began to 



116 NARRATIVE OF 

shake from its foundations, she began to soliloquize as fol- 
lows : — 

' Shall I run away and hide from the Devil ] Me, a 
servant of the living God 1 Have I not faith enough to 
go out and quell that mob, when I know it is written — 
" One shall chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to 
flight"? I know there are not a thousand here; and 
I know I am a servant of the living God. I'll go to 
tfie rescue, and the Lord shall go with and protect me. 

' Oh,' said she, ' I felt as if 1 had three hearts ! and that 
they were so large, my body could hardly hold them ! ' 

She now c3me forth from her hiding-place, and invited 
several to go with her and see what they could do to still 
the raging of the moral elements. They declined, and 
considered her wild to think of it. 

The meeting was in the open fields — the full moon shed 
its saddened light over all — and the woman who was that 
evening to address them was trembling on the preachers' 
stand. The noise and confusion were now terrific. So- 
journer left the tent alone and unaided, and walking some 
thirty rods to the top of a small rise of ground, com- 
menced to sing, in her most fervid manner, with all the 
strength of her most powerful voice, the hymn on the 
resurrection of Christ — 

* It was early in the morning — it was early in the morning. 

Just at the break of day — 
When he rose — when he rose — when he rose, 

And went to heaven on a cloud.' 

All who have ever heard her sing this hymn will proba- 
bly remember it as long as they remember her. The 
hymn, the tune, the style, are each too closely associated 
with to be easily separated from herself, and when sung 



BOJOUBN&B TRUTH. 117 

in cue of her most animated moods, in the open air, with 
the utmost strength of her most powerful voice, must 
have been truly thrilling. 

As she commenced to sing, the young men made a 
rush towards her, and she was immediately encircled by 
a dense body of the rioters, many of them armed with 
3ti 9 or clubs as their weapons of defence, if not of 
k. As the circle narrowed around her, she ceased 
singing, and after a short pause, inquired, in a gentle but 
firm tone, ' Why do you come about me with clubs and 
sticks'? I am not doing harm to any one.' 'We ar'n't 

going to hurt you, old woman ; we came to hear you 
sing, 1 cried many voices, simultaneously. ' Sing to us, 
old woman,' cries one. 'Talk to us, old woman,' says 
another. 'Pray, old woman,' says a third. 'Tell us 
your experience,' says a fourth. ' You stand and smoke 
so near me, I cannot sing or talk,' she answered. 

' Stand back,' said several authoritative voices, with not 
the most gentle or courteous accompaniments, raising 
their rude weapons in the air. The crowd suddenly gave 
back, the circle became larger, as many voices again called 
for singing, talking, or praying, backed by assurances that 
no one should be allowed to hurt her — the speakers de- 
claring with an oath, that they would ' knock down' any 
person who should offer her the least indignity. 

She looked about her, and with her usual discrimination, 
said inwardly — ' Here must be many young men in all this 
assemblage, bearing within them hearts susceptible of 
good impressions. I will speak tc them.' She did 
speak ; they silently heard, and civilly asked her many 
questions. It seemed to her to be given her at the time 
to answer them with truth and wisdom beyond herself. 
Her speech had operated on the roused passions of the 



118 NARRATIVE OF 

mob like oil on agitated waters ; they were, as a whole, 
entirely subdued, and only clamored when she ceased 
to speak or sing. Those who stood in the background, 
after the circle was enlarged, cried out, ' Sing aloud, old 
woman, we can't hear.' Those who held the sceptre ot 
power among them requested that she should make a 
pulpit of a neighboring wagon. She said, ' If I do, they'll 
overthrow it.' 'No, they sha'n't — he who dares hurt 
you, we'll knock him down instantly, d — n him,' cried 
the chiefs. 'No we won't, no we won't, nobody shall 
hurt you,' answered the many voices of the mob. They 
kindly assisted her to mount the wagon, from which she 
spoke and sung to them about an hour. Of all she said 
to them on the occasion, she remembers only the follow- 
ing :— 

'Well, there are two congregations on this ground. 
It is written that there shall be a separation, and the sheep 
shall be separated from the goats. The other preachers 
have the sheep, / have the goats. And I have a few 
sheep among my goats, but they are very ragged.' This 
exordium produced great laughter. When she became 
wearied with talking, she began to cast about her to con- 
trive some way to induce them to disperse. While she 
paused, they loudly clamored for ' more,' ' more,' — ' sing,' 
' sing more.' She motioned them to be quiet, and called 
out to them : ' Children, I have talked and sung to you, 
as you asked me; and now I have a request to make of 
you : will you grant it V ' Yes, yes, yes,' resounded from 
every quarter. ' Well, it is this,' she answered : ' if I 
will sing one more hymn for you, will you then go away, 
and leave us this night in peace V ' Yes, yes,' came 
faintly, feebly from a few. ' I repeat it,' says Sojourner, 
• and I want an answer from you all, as of one accord. 



SOJOURNER TRUTH, 119 

If I will sing you one more, you will go away, and 1< 
as this night in peace? 1 k 5fes, yes, yes,' shouted many 
voices, with hearty emphasis. 'I repeat my r< 
once more,' said she, 'and I want you all to answer.' 
And she reiterated the words again. This time a long, 
loud 'Yes — yes — yes,' came up, as from the multitudi- 
nous mouth of the entire mob. "Amen! it is SEALED, 

repeated Sojourner, in the deepest and mosl solemn to] i • 

of her powerful and sonorous voice. Its effect ran 
through the multitude, like an electric shock; and the 
most of them considered themselves bound by their 
promise, as they might have failed to do under less 
imposing circumstances. Some of them began instantly 
to leave ; others said, ' Are we not to have one m 
hymn? 1 'Yes,' answered their entertainer, and she 
commenced to sing : 

' I bless the Lord I've got my seal — to-day and to-day — 

To slay Goliath in the field — to-day and to-day ; 

The good old way is a righteous way, 

I mean to take the kingdom in the good old way.' 

While singing, she heard some enf _ obedience to 
their promise, while a few seemed refusing to abide by it. 
But before she had quite concluded, she saw them I 
from her, and in the course of a few minutes, they were 
r unning as fast as they well could in a solid body ; and 
she says she can compare them to nothing but a swarm 
of bees, so dense was their phalanx, so straight their 
course, so hurried their march. As they passed with a 
rush very near the stand of the other preachers, the 
hearts of the people were smitten with fear, thinking that 
their entertainer had foiled to enchain them longer with 
her spell, and that they were coming upon them with 
doubled and remorseless fury. But they found they v 



120 NARRATIVE OF 

xristaken, and that their fears were groundless; for, 
before they could well recover from their surprise, every 
rioter was gone, and not one was left on the grounds, or 
seen there again during the meeting. Sojourner was 
informed that as her audience reached the main road, 
some distance from the tents, a few of the rebellious 
spirits refused to go on, and proposed returning ; but 
their leaders said, ' No — we have promised to leave — all 
promised, and we must go, all go, and you shall none of 
you return again.' 

She did not fall in love at first sight with the Northamp- 
ton Association, for she arrived there at a time when ap- 
pearances did not correspond with the ideas of associa- 
tionists, as they had been spread out in their writings ; 
for their phalanx was a factory, and they were wanting in 
means to carry out their ideas of beauty and elegance, as 
they would have done in different circumstances. But 
she thought she would make an effort to tarry with them 
one night, though that seemed to her no desirable affair. 
But as soon as she saw that accomplished, literary and 
refined persons were living in that plain and simple man- 
ner, and submitting to the labors and privations incident 
to such an infant institution, she said, ' Well, if these can 
live here, / can.' Afterwards, she gradually became 
pleased with, and attached to, the place and the people, 
as well she might ; for it must have been no small thing 
to have found a home in a ' Community composed of 
some of the choicest spirits of the age,' where all was 
characterized by an equality of feeling, a liberty of 
thought and speech, and a largeness of soul, she could 
not have before met with, to the same extent, in any of 
her wanderings. 

Our first knowledge of her was derived from a friend 



SOJOURNER TRUTH. 121 

whc ha i resri Led for a time in the ' Community, 1 and who, 
describing her, and singing one of her hymns, 
wished that we might see her. But we little thought, at 
that time, that we should ever pen these 'simple annals 1 
of this child of nature. 

When we first saw her, she was working with a hearty 
I will ; saying she would not be induced to take reg- 
ular wage-, believing, as once before, that now Provi- 
so had provided her with a never- failing fount, from 
which her every want might be perpetually supplied 
through her mortal life. In this, she had calculated too 

3t. For the Associationists found, that, taking every 
thing into consideration, they would find it most expe- 
dient to act individually ; and again, the subject of this 
sketch found her dreams unreal, and herself flung back 
upon her own resources for the supply of her needs. 
This she might have found more inconvenient at her time 
of life — for labor, exposure and hardship had made sad 
inroads upon her iron constitution, by inducing chronic 
lid premature old age — had she not remained 
under the shadow of one,* who never wearies in doing 
_ 1, giving to the needy, and supplying the wants of 
the destitute. She has now set her heart upon having a 
little home of her own, even at this late hour of lit.', 
where she may feel a greater freedom than she can in 
the house of another, and where she can repose a little, 
after her day of action has passed by. And for such a 
'home 'she is now dependent on the charities of the 
benevolent, and to them we appeal with confidence. 

Through all the scenes of her eventful life may be 
traced the energy of a naturally powerful mind — the fear- 
lessness ind child-like simplicity of one untrammelled by 

• George W. Benson. 



122 NARRATIVE OF 

education or conventional customs — purity of character 
— an unflinching adherence to principle — and a native en- 
thusiasm, which, under different circumstances, might 
easily have produced another Joan of Arc. 

With all her fervor, and enthusiasm, and speculation, 
her religion is not tinctured in the least with gloom. No 
doubt, no hesitation, no despondency, spreads a cloud 
over her soul ; but all is bright, clear, positive, and at 
times ecstatic. Her trust is in God, and from him she 
looks for good, and not evil. She feels that ' perfect love 
casteth out fear.' 

Having more than once found herself awaking from a 
mortifying delusion, — as in the case of the Sing-Sing king- 
dom, — and resolving not to be thus deluded again, she 
has set suspicion to guard the door of her heart, and al- 
lows it perhaps to be aroused by too slight causes, on 
certain subjects — her vivid imagination assisting to mag- 
nify the phantoms of her fears into gigantic proportions, 
much beyond their real size ; instead of resolutely adher- 
ing to the rule we all like best, when it is to be applied 
to ourselves — that of placing every thing we see to the 
account of the best possible motive, until time and cir- 
cumstance prove that Ave were wrong. Where no good 
motive can be assigned, it may become our duty to sus- 
pend our judgment till evidence can be had. 

In the application of this rule, it is an undoubted duty 
to exercise a commendable prudence, by refusing to re- 
pose any important trust to the keeping of persons who 
may be strangers to us, and whose trustworthiness we 
have never seen tried. But no possible good, but incal- 
culable evil may and does arise from the too common 
practice of placing all conduct, the source of which we 
do not fully understand, to the worst of intentions. H' >w 






SOJOURNER TRUTH. 12 

often is the gentle, timid soul discouraged, and driven 
perhaps to despondency, by finding its 'good evil Bpoken 
of ;' and a well-meant but mistaken action loaded with 
an evil design ! 

It' the world WOUld but sedulously Bet about reformi] g 
itself on tliis one point, who can calculate the change it 
would produce — the evil it would annihilate, and the hap- 
piness it would confer ! None "but an all-seeing eye could 
at once embrace so vast a result. A result, how desira- 
ble ! and one that can be brought about only by the most 
simple process — that of every individual seeing to it that 
he commit not this sin himself. For why should we all 
low in ourselves, the very fault we most dislike, when 
committed against us 1 Shall we not at least aim at 
consistency? 

Had she possessed less generous self-sacrifice, more 
knowledge of the world and of business matters in g< 
ral, and had she failed to take it for granted that others 
were like herself, and would, when her turn came to need, 
do as she had done, and find it ' more blessed to give than 
to receive,' she might have laid by something for the fu- 
ture. For few, perhaps, have ever possessed the power 
and inclination, in the same degree, at one and the same 
time, to labor as she has done, both day and night, lor s< i 
long a period of time. And had these energies been wel 1- 
directed, and the proceeds well husbanded, since she has 

en her own mistress, they would have given her an in- 
dependence during her natural lite. But her constitu- 
tional biases, and her early training, or rather want of 
training, prevented this result ; and it is too late now to 
remedy the great mistake. Shall she then be left to 
want 1 Who will not answer, ' No !' 



124 NARRATIVE OF 



LAST INTERVIEW WITH HER MASTER. 

In the spring of 1849, Sojourner made a visit to her eld- 
est daughter, Diana, who has ever suffered from ill health, 
and remained with Mr. Dumont, Isabella's humane master. 
She found him still living, though advanced in age, and 
reduced in property, (as he had been for a number of 
years,) but greatly enlightened on the subject of slavery. 
He said he could then see, that ' slavery was the wicked- 
est thing in the world, the greatest curse the earth had ever 
felt — that it was then very clear to his mind that it was 
so, though, while he was a slaveholder himself, he did not 
see it so, and thought it was as right as holding any other 
property.' Sojourner remarked to him, that it might be 
the same with those who are now slaveholders. l O, no,' 
replied he, with warmth, ' it cannot be. For, now, the 
sin of slavery is so clearly written out, and so much talked 
against, — (why, the whole world cries out against it !) — 
that if any one says he don't know, and has not heard, he 
must, I think, be a liar. In my slaveholding days, there 
were few that spoke against it, and these few made little 
impression on any one. Had it been as it is now, think 
you I could have held slaves 1 No ! I should not have 
dared to do it, but should have emancipated every one of 
them. Now, it is very different ; all may hear if they 
will.' 

Yes, reader, if any one feels that the tocsin of alarm, 
or the anti-slavery trump, must sound a louder note be- 
fore they can hear it, one would think they must be very 
hard of hearing — yea, that they belong to that class, of 
whom it may be truly said, ' they have stopped their ears 
that they may not hear.' 



SOJOURNER TRUTH, 125 

She received a letter from her daughter Diana, dated 

Hvde ['ark, I Kremlin- r.>, 1SK>, which informed her that 
Mr. Dumont had 'gone West' with some of his sons — 
that he had taken along with him, probably through mis- 
take, the tew articles of furniture she had left with him. 

'Never mind,' says Sojourner, ' what we give to the | r, 

we lend to the Lord.' She thanked the Lord with fervor, 
that she had lived to hear her master say such blessed 
things! She recalled the lectures he used to give his 
slaves, on speaking the truth and being honest, and laugh- 
ing, she says he taught us not to lie and steal, when he 
was stealing all the time himself and did not know it ! 
Oh ! how sweet to my mind was this confession ! And 
what a confession for a master to make to a slave ! A 
slaveholding master turned to a brother ! Poor old man, 
may the Lord bless him, and all slaveholders partake of 
his spirit ! 



•BOOK OF LIFE." 



PA R I SI (.ON I). 



t . 



BOOK OF LI FE." 



The preceding narrative has given us a partial his 
bory of Sojourner Truth. This biography was pub- 
lished not many years after her freedom had been 
cured to her. Saving l>ut recently emerged from the 
gloomy night of slavery, ignorant and untaught in all 
thai gives value to human « xistence, she waa still Buf- 
fering from the burden of acquired and transmitted 
habits incidental to her past condition of servitude. 
Yet Bhe was one whose life forces and moral percep- 
tions were so p rwerful ami clear cut that Bhe not only 
came out from tin's moral gutter it', but larg< K 

assisted in elevating others of her race from a similar 
state of degradation, [t was the«"oil of divine ori 
gin " which quicken* <l her bou! and fed the vital Bpai 
that her own indomitable courage fanned to an undy 
ing flame. She was one of the 6rst to enlist in I 
war agai y, and fought the battles for fre< 

il.tin by the side of its noble lead* i 

\ true BCUtinel, she sluinhercd net at her post. ! i 

hasten the enfranchisement of her own iwople w 
th< work to which Bhe cod Led h( r life j i 

A 



130 "BOOK OF LIFE 



>j 



ever responsive to the calls of humanity, she cheer- 
fully lent her aid to the advancement of other reforms, 
especially woman's rights and temperance. 

During the last twenty-five years, she has traveled 
thousands of miles, lectured in many States of the 
Union, spoken in Congress, and has received tokens 
of friendship such as few can produce. The following 
article was published in a Washington Sunday paper 
during the administration of President Lincoln : — 

" It was our good fortune to be in the marble room 
of the senate chamber, a few days ago, when that old 
land-mark of the past — the representative of the for- 
ever-gone age — Sojourner Truth, made her appear- 
ance. It was an hour not soon to be forgotten ; for 
it is not often, even in this magnanimous age of prog- 
ress, that we see reverend senators — even him that 
holds the second chair in the gift of the Republic — 
vacate their seats in the hall of State, to extend the 
hand of welcome, the meed of praise, and substantial 
blessings, to a poor negro woman, whose poor old form, 
bending under the burden of nearly four-score and 
ten years, tells but too plainly that her marvelously 
strange life is drawing to a close. But it was as re- 
freshing as it was strange to see her who had served in 
the shackles of slavery in the great State of New York 
for nearly a quarter of a century before a majority of 
these senators were born now holding a levee with 
them in the marble room, where less than a decade 
ago she would have been spurned from its outer cor- 
ridor by the lowest menial, much less could she have 
taken the hand of a senator. Truly, the spirit of prog- 
ress is abroad in the land, and the leaven of love is 



\ 1. 1< ii uincj toi i l;;i 

working in the heart: of the people, pointii b uu 

erring certainty to the not far distant future, when the 
ties of affection shall cement all nations, kind i md 
tongues h i e common I." 

Site carries with her a book tha th< 

of I life, « hioh co i j ha i 

guished person I and n al of the laud. 

No better idea can 1 en of on in which 

she i.s held than by transcribing tin jtimoniala and 
giving them to tin- public. It will bo difScult 
arrange these account8 in the chronological order of 
ev< nts, but no effort has been Bpared to furnish cor- 

i dates. 

In the year ! 351 she left her home in Northampton, 
Mass., for a lecturing tour in Western New York, i 
companied by the Hon. < George Thompson of England, 
and oth< r distinguished abolitionists. To adv< he 

cause of the enslaved at tin's period v. popu- 

lar and unsafe. Their meetings were t :it!\ dis- 

turbed or broken up by the pro-slavei i nd tin ir 

lives imperiled. At such times, Sojourner fearlessly 
maintained her ground, and by her dignified manner 
and opportune remarks would disperse the rabble and 

n store order. 

She spent several months in Western I VTork, 
making Rochester her h larters. L this 

State, she traveled westward, and tlie next glimp 

of hi r is in a W I Lights < ntion 

Akron, Ohio. Mrs. Frances D. Gage, who i ed 

at that meeting, relatt a the following: — 

"The cause was unpopular then. The leaders <•{ 
the movement tr tall, gaunl bla< 



132 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

woman, in a gray dress and white turban, surmounted 
by an uncouth sun-bonnet, march deliberately into the 
church, walk with the air of a queen up the aisle, and 
take her seat upon the pulpit steps. A buzz of dis- 
approbation was heard all over the house, and such 
words as these fell upon listening ears : — 

" ' An abolition affair ! ' ' Woman's rights and nig- 
gers ! ' ' We told you so ! ' 'Go it, old darkey ! ' 

" I chanced upon that occasion to wear my first 
laurels in public life as president of the meeting. At 
my request, order was restored and the business of the 
hour went on. The morning session was held ; the 
evening exercises came and went. Old Sojourner, 
quiet and reticent as the ' Libyan Statue,' sat crouched 
against the wall on the corner of the pulpit stairs, 
her sun-bonnet shading her eyes, her elbows on her 
knees, and her chin resting upon her broad, hard palm. 
At intermission she was busy, selling ' The Life of 
Sojourner Truth,' a narrative of her own strange and 
adventurous life. Again and again timorous and 
trembling ones came to me and said with darnestness, 
' Do n't let her speak, Mrs. Gage, it will ruin us. 
Every newspaper in the land will have our cause 
mixed with abolition and niggers, and we shall be ut- 
terly denounced.' My only answer was, 'We shall 
see when the time comes.' 

"The second day the work waxed warm. Metho- 
dist, Baptist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Universal- 
ist ministers came in to hear and discuss the resolu- 
tions presented. One claimed superior rights and 
privileges for man on the ground of superior intellect ; 
another, because of the manhood of Christ. 'If God 






SOMETmNfl ()1 I K N ill: 

had desired the equality of woman, Ik- would have 
given Borne token <>!' his will through the birth, life, 
.•Hid death of the Saviour.' Another gave us :i tin 
logical view of the sin of our first mother, There 
were few women in thoBC days thai dared to 'speak 
in meeting,' and the august teachers of the people 
were seeming to get tin* better of us, while t Ik - boys 
iu the galleries and the Bneerers among the pews were 
hugely enjoying the discomfiture, as they Bupposcd, of 
tin* "strong minded.' Some ( t' the tender-skinned 
friends were on the point of losing dignity, and the 
atmosphere of i ho convention betokt ned a storm. 

"Slowly from her scat in the corner rose Sojourner 
Truth, who, till now, had scarcely lifted her head. 
' Don't let her speak !' gasped half a dozen in my ear. 
She moved slowly and solemnly to the front, laid her 
old bonnei at her feet, and turned her gnat, epeaking 
ryes to me. There was a hissing sound i4' disappro- 
bation above and below. 1 rose and announced 'So- 
journer Truth,' and begged the audience to ke< p 
lence for a few moment . The tumult subsided at 
once, and evmy eye was fixed on this almost Amazon 
form, which stood nearly six feet high, head erect, and 
eye piercing the upper air, like one in a dream. A 
her first word, there was a profound hush. She spoke 
in deoj) tones, which, though not loud, reached every 
ear in the home, and away through the throng al the 
doors and w indows : — > 

" l Well, chilern. whar dar is so much racket dar 
must he something out o' kilt< r. 1 tink dai 'tw i\i de 



'o 



niggers <»f de Souf and de women at de Norf all a 



t>© 



talkin' Hbout rights, de white men will be iu m fix 



134 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

pretty soon. But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout 1 ?' 
Dat man ober dar say dat women needs to be helped 
into carriages, and lifted ober ditches, and to have de 
best place every wliar. Nobody eber help me into 
carriages, or ober mud puddles, or gives me any best 
place [and raising herself to her full hight and her 
voice to a pitch like rolling thunder, she asked], and 
ar'n't T a woman 1 Look at me ! Look at my arm ! 
[And she bared her right arm to the shoulder, show- 
ing her tremendous muscular power.] I have plowed, 
and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man 
could head me — and ar'n't I a woman 1 I could work 
as much and eat as much as a man (when I could get 
it), and bear de lash as well — and ar'n't I a woman 1 
I have borne thirteen chilern and seen 'em mos' all 
sold off into slavery, and when I cried out with a 
mother's grief, none but Jesus heard — and ar'n't I a 
woman 1 Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de head — 
what dis dey call it V ' Intellect,' whispered some one 
near. ' Dat's it honey. What's dat got to do with 
women's rights or niggers' rights 1 If my cup won't 
hold but a pint and yourn holds a quart, would n't ye 
be mean not to let me have my little half-measure full 1 ' 
And she pointed her significant finger and sent a keen 
glance at the minister who had made the argument. 
The cheering was long and loud. 

" ' Den dat little man in black dar, he say women 
can't have as much rights as man, cause Christ want 
a woman. Whar did your Christ come from 1 ' Roll- 
ing thunder could not have stilled that crowd as did 
those deep, wonderful tones, as she stood there with 
outstretched arms and eye of fire. Raising her voice 



THE TIDK TUR! I :. 

Btil] louder, Blie n I, ' V. our Uhri 

me from .' Prom < Joel and i in. Man bad 

nothing to <!<> with liim.' I •.< ! w hal a rebuke 
gave the little man. 

• 1'iin:: lin to another ol be took on 

the d< P Eve. ] p 

through it all. y, and bo) 

emn, < lie 

}>I:i he end( d bj 

worn in God e^ 

world upside down, all 'I Ider [and b! 

glanced h< r eye over us], 
bacls and il : '•■ up 

aski] . do it, de men b u' 

ued cheering. 'Bleeged to j hearin' on i 

' ole n< r h aothii 1 

ipplau I to her corn< 

Leaving more tha id 

trts b e had is up 

in her - :'■' 

Blough of difficulty, turning th in our fa- 

I hav< i vei in my lif 
magical influx ; the mol 

day and turned the jibes an 
croi notes I adn n. 

dreds rushed up I 

glorious old mother and bid hi I 

mission of 'testi 

his 'ere people.'" 
Mr . I > in the bl- 



UJg : — 



"Once upon a Sabbath in ML o abolition 



136 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

meeting was held. Parker Pillsbnry was speaker, and 
criticized freely the conduct of the churches regarding 
slavery. While lie was speaking there came up a 
fearful thunder storm. A young Methodist arose, and 
interrupting the speaker, said lie felt alarmed ; he felt 
as if Clod's judgment was about to fall on him for dar- 
ing to sit and hear such blasphemy ; that it made his 
hair almost rise with terror. Here a voice, sounding 
above the rain that beat upon the roof, the sweeping 
surge of the winds, the crashing of the limbs of trees, 
the swaying of branches, and the rolling of thunder, 
spoke out : ' Chile, do n't be skeered ; you are not go- 
ing to be harmed, I do n't speck God's ever hearn 
tell on ye.' It was all she said, but it was enough." 

She remained two years in the State of Ohio, 
going from town to town, attending conventions, and 
holding meetings of her own. Marius llobinson, of 
Salem, Ohio, editor of the Anti-Slavery Bugle, whose 
clarion notes never faltered in freedom's cause, was 
her friend and co-laborer. She toiled on in this field 
pcrsevcringly, sowing the seeds of truth in the hearts 
of the people, and patiently awaiting the time when 
she should help gather in the sheaves of a ripened 
harvest. At this time she attracted but little atten- 
tion outside a charmed circle of reformers whose 
mighty moral power was the lever which eventually 
overthrew the institution of American slavery. 

About the year 1856, she came to Battle Creek and 
bought a house and lot, since which time her home 
has been in Michigan. She still continued her itiner- 
ant life, spending much of her time in the neighboring 
States, especially in Indiana, which she felt needed 



PRO si. \\ I i;\ [N INDIANA. I -'.7 

her missionary efforts. An account of one «>i hei 
meetings held in the northern pari of thai State I 
been kindly furnished lis bv her friend, Parker Till 
bui companied by a note from himself. 

'• I inclose a communication from the Boston I 
ntor, of Oct 5, L858, relating to Sojourner Truth. 
The wondrous experiences of that most remarkable 
woman \\<mi1<1 make :i library, it' no! indeed a lii< rn 
t nil', could they all be gathered and Bpread b< Pore the 
world. I was much in her company for several years 
in (ho anti slavery conflict, and have often seen hei 
engaged in what seemed most unequal combat with 
the defenders of slavery and iocs of freedom ; but I 
never saw her when she did not, as in the instance 
given below, scatter her enemies with dismay and 
confusion, winning more than victory in every bal 
tie. p. p." 

" PRO-SLAVERY IX INDIANA. 

" Silver Lakb, K Bciusko Co., [nd . 

"Octob< r i, l ' 

"Friend W*. I.. Garrison: Sojourner Truth, an 
elderly colored woman, well known throughout the 
Eastern Suites, is new holding a Beries of anti Blaven 
meetings in Northern Indiana. Sojourner comes well 
recommended by II. 1'.. Stowe, yourself, and othei 
and was gladlj i lived and welcomed by th( 
of the slave in this locality. Her progress in know! 
edge, truth, and righteousn< . remarkable, i 

].i cially when we com Lder h< c former low estate as a 
slave. The border-ruffian Democracy of Indiana. 
however, appear to be jealous and icious of i very 



138 "BOOK OF LIFE 



?> 



anti-slavery movement. A rumor was immediately 
circulated that Sojourner was an impostor ; that she 
was, indeed, a man disguised in women's clothing. It 
appears, too, from what has since transpired, that they 
suspected her to be a mercenary hireling of the Ke- 
publican party. 

" At her third appointed meeting in this vicinity, 
which was held in the meeting-house of the United 
Brethren, a large number of democrats and other 
pro-slavery persons were present. At the close of the 
meeting, Dr. T. W. Strain, the mouthpiece of the 
slave Democracy, requested the large congregation to 
' hold on.' and stated that a doubt existed in the minds 
of many persons present respecting the sex of the 
speaker, and that it was his impression that a major- 
ity of them believed the speaker to be a man. The 
doctor also affirmed (which was not believed by the 
friends of the slave) that it was for the speaker's spe- 
cial benefit that he now demanded that Sojourner 
submit her breast to the inspection of some of the la- 
dies present, that the doubt might be removed by 
their testimony. There were a large number of ladies 
present, who appeared to be ashamed and indignant 
at such a proposition. Sojourner's friends, some ot 
whom had not heard the rumor, were surprised and 
indignant at such ruffianly surmises and treatment. 

" Confusion and uproar ensued, which was soon sup- 
pressed by Sojourner, who, immediately rising, asked 
them why they suspected her to be a man. The De- 
mocracy answered, ' Your voice is not the voice of a 
woman, it is the voice of a man, and we believe you 
are a man.' Dr. Strain called for a vote, and a bois- 






PRO-SLAVERY IN INDIANA. 139 

terous 'Aye, 1 was the result A negative vote was 
not called for. Sojourner told them that her brea 
had Buckled many a white babe, to 1 1 1 < * exclusion of 
her own offspring; that some of those white babies 
had grown to man's estate; that, although they had 
sucked her colored breasts, thej were, in her estima 
Hon, far more manly than they (her persecutors) ;ip~ 
peared to bej and she quietly asked them, as Bhe dis- 
robed her bosom, if they, too, wished to suck ! I 
vindication of her truthfulness, Bhe told them that she 

►uld show her breast to tho whole congregation; 
that it was not to her shame that slio uncovered her 
breast before them, but to their shame. Two young 
men (A. Badgely and J. Horner) stepped forward 
while Sojourner exposed her naked breast to the au- 
dience. I heard a democrat say, as we were return- 
ing home from meeting, that Dr. Strain had, previous 
to the examination, offered to net forty dollars that 
Sojourner was a man ! So much for the physiological 
acumen of a western physician. 

" As 'agitation of thought is the beginning of wis- 
dom.' we hope that Indiana will yet be redeemed. 
" Yours, truly, for the slave, 

"William Hayward." 

The late lamented Josephine Grilling, whose loyal 

services in support of the Union, and untiring labors 
for the colored race, entitles her to a monument at 
the nation's cost, was often associated with Sojourner 
in anti-slavery times, and was invited to hold meet- 
ings with her in Angola and vicinity in the autumn 
of 1862. The slave-holding spirit was now fully 



140 " BOOK OF LIFE." 



aroused in Indiana, and very hitter toward the negro. 
A law had recently been passed forbidding their enter- 
ing the State or remaining in it. This law was uncon- 
stitutional, -nevertheless the democrats had enforced 
it and endeavored to enforce it in Sojourner's case. 
A warrant was made out and she was arrested for 
both offenses. Mrs. Grilling undertook her defense 
alone, outwitted and beat the enemy. Sojourner, 
nothing daunted, determined to remain and carry out 
the programme. For a time her meetings were much 
disturbed. When she arose to speak, the democrats 
would cry, " Down with you ! We think the niggers 
have done enough ! We will not hear you speak ! 
Stop your mouth ! &c, &c." She told them that the 
Union people would soon make them stop their 
mouths. The Union home guard took her into custody 
to protect her from being thrown into jail by the rebels. 
A meeting was appointed at the town-house in An- 
gola, but the democrats threatened to burn the build- 
ing if she attempted to speak in it. To this she 
made answer, " Then I will speak upon the ashes." 
Describing this meeting, she says : — 

" The ladies thought I should be dressed in uniform 
as well as the captain of the home guard, whose pris- 
oner I was and who was to go with me to the meet- 
ing. So they put upon me a red, white, and blue 
shawl, a sash and apron to match, a cap on my head 
with a star in front, and a star on each shoulder. 
When I was dressed I looked in the glass and was 
fairly frightened." Said I, " It seems I am going to 
battle." My friends advised me to take a sword or 
pistol. I replied, " I carry no weapon ; the Lord will 



l»RO M IN L\DIA> I ! I 

erve pn le witho I f< « 1 i 

en in the mid aemie >r the truth 

j» (werful :iik1 will p 

•• When wt ready I into :i 

large, beautiful carriage with the captain and otl 

utlemen, all of whom w( d. 

walked by ide and a loi ;i foil 

\ i we neared the com out of the win- 

dow, I saw that tlif buildii 

great crowd. I felt aa I ? _ the 

Philistines and I prayed the Lord to relii 
me out of their hand . ben the rel iw 

Buch a mighty army coming, tl. I by th< 

tini-- we arrived they m 

looking like a flock of frighten* ne 

was li ft but a small boy, wh upon ■ 

Hi" ' Nitffftr iii ,r ' 

"We now marched into tl rt-hou 

by double t with pr< 1 arm The 

band struck up the * Star In which 

I joined and sang With all my . while amid 

Hashing baj and waving 

its way to the platform upon which 1 • and adi 

ted free speech with more zeal than ad 

without interruption. At the i I 

wa ted to the 1 quire for 

my iiici; ie mob might return and i 

us trouble j but the d 1 without farthei n 

uoyan< 

•• I spent Borne of thi til ie ith 

Mr. Eloby'b family ; but Mr. I; >bj 

taining me, tried an 



142 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

Mr. Fox, was taken up for encouraging me to remain 
in the State and summoned to appear at the district 
court, but was found 'not guilty.' 

" One day whilst I was at Mr. Roby's, two ladies 
drove up in haste and earnestly desired me to leave, 
saying the rebels were near by — coming to take me — 
whereupon I went home with them. But they, be- 
coming more alarmed, advised me to seek safety in 
some woods not far away, by offering to go with me. 
This I positively refused to do, and told them I would 
sooner go to jail. I stood my ground and the rebel 
constable came with a warrant to take me ; but a Un- 
ion officer, folio wing closely behind him, stepped up 
and read some papers showing that I was his prisoner. 
At this turn of affairs the rebel officer looked very 
much disgusted, and turning to go, said, ' I ain't go- 
ing to bother my head with niggers, I'll resign my of- 
fice first.' Then the home guard marched up to our 
house, playing upon the fife and drum, and gave loud 
cheers for Sojourner, 'JYee Speech, and the Union. 

"The last time I was arrested, the constable asked 
if I would appear at court, or if he should take me 
along with him. My friends assured him that they 
would be responsible for my appearance. When the 
day for my trial came, a great many w r ent with me, 
some of the best families in the county, among whom 
were Dr. Gale, Dr. Moss and family, Thorns s Moss 
and family, Mr. lloby, Mrs. Griffing, and many other 
noble people whose names I cannot now recall, but 
the memory of whose friendship will be cherished 
whilst memory remains. 

" My enemies, thinking I would probably run 



PRO-SLAVER? IN INDIAN \. I 19 

away, bad made no preparation for the trial; bul 
when they saw us come, bunted around and procured 
a shabby room into which I went with :i few friends 
and waited for some one to appear against me. Aiter 
a while, two half-drunken lawyers, who looked like 
the Bcrapings of the Democratic party, made their ap 
pearance, eyed us for a few moments, then left. Pn 
entry we saw them enter a tavern across the way, ami 
this ended tin' trial 

" "We now went to the house of a friend and had a 
grand picnic. I returned home after a month of hard 
labor in Indiana, which I believe did much for the 
cause of human freedom." 

M rs. Grilling, writing to the Anti-Slavery Standard, 
says, " Our meetings are largely attended by persons 
from every part of the county; especially by the most 
noble-hearted women, whose presence lias produced a 
marked impression and has done more toward estab- 
lishing a free government than would the killing of a 
hundred of Ellsworth's Zouaves. The lines are now- 
being drawn as they never were by political maneuver, 
and as they cannot be by the cold steel alone. b< can 
it is a blow at slavery. 'Cannon balls may aid the 
truth, but thought's a weapon stronger.' 

"Slavery has made a conquest in this county by 
the suppression of free speech, and freedom must make 
her conquest by the steadfast support of free speech. 
There was not manhood enough in the county last 
fall to protect an anti-slavery m< eting at the county 
seat; now there are a hundred men who would spill 
their blood sooner than surrender the right of even 
Sojourner. At all of our meetings we have been 



144 •• BOOK OF LIFE." 

told that armed men were in our midst and had de- 
clared they would blow out our brains." 

In the winter and spring of 1863, Sojourner was ill 
for many weeks and her finances becoming exhausted, 
she prayed the Lord to send an angel to relieve her 
wants. Soon aft r. a friend called bringing all need- 
ful supplies, to whom she said, "I just asked the Lord 
to send one of his chosen angels to me," and smiling 
added. " I knew he would think of you first." 

Her case was made known to the public through 
the columns of the Anti-Slavery Standard and gener- 
ous donations were forwarded to her. The following 
articles were published at the time : — 

"SOJOURNER TRUTH. 

• Ou\ eb Johnson : — 

•• Dear Friend — Again I would ask 
permission, through your paper, to return thanks to 
friends whose hearts have been moved to give aid and 
comfort to our 'venerable friend and teacher,' So- 
journer Truth. She desires me to say that she cannot 
rest until all know how truly grateful she is for their 
kind assistance. She says her heart is full of praises 
and prayer, and sometimes she thinks her cup of hap- 
piness is about to run over, and she prays de Lord to 
pour it on to some of her friends. Would that some 

sople had the power and goodness of heart to extract 
happiness from material surroundings in proportion 
to their pos >ns, as Sojourner has. A much bet- 

orld would this \n 

" When the kind and excellent letter reached her 






SOJOURNER l 1:1 ill. I 1 3 

from Samuel May and wife, of Leicester, Mass., ac 
companied with donations from [reland, sin- was 
greatly surprised, and expressions of deep gratitude 
came in rapid bu< in. Finally, she concluded that 

no mortal on earth was ever so blessed before, and 
she was quite sure f de Lord never sent his angels from 
bo greal a distant en in 'Lijah's day.' She won- 
dered who ever heard of Sojourner way in Ireland, 
and when Bhe thought that they were friends whom 
sli<> had nev< r leen, Bhe was quite overcome with joy, 
and thought the goodness of the Lord was greater than 
Bhe could understand. 

"She wishes you to print the name of her grandson, 
danics Caldwell, of the 54th, thinking that some one 
may go and see him. 

•• She wish< a her fri< nds to know that her health is 
better than it was Borne time since. She says she has 
'budded out wid de trees, but may fall wid <!«• an- 
tumn leaves.' 

"Phebe II. M. Stickney." 



.. 



ES 01 i" 



A i s. Edmund sod, I i Lblin, [reland. 
.Mrs. Anne Allen, " ll 

Richard D. Webb, 

Sarah \l. M&] . 1/ i . 

Samuel May, •' r.. " 

M re. * »v STork. 

W. II. Burleigh, 

( reorge W. Bu " " 

< Mivi r Johnson, " " 

Theodore Tilt " " 

B 



146 "BOOK OF LIFE. 

' Freedman's Relief Society,' Worcester, Maps. 

Miss Ladd, 

Mrs. Miller, 

Mr. and Mrs. Tvvam, 

Dr. Church and wife, 

Mrs. John Hull, 

Mrs. Maria Brown and Stillman, 

Miss Laura Stebbins, 

Mrs. Charles Hastings, 

Mrs. Griffing, 

Mrs. Samson and Mrs. Eliot, 

Mrs. John Hamilton," 

"To the Editor of the National Anti-Slavery Standard : 

" This extraordinary woman still lives. "When the 
letter of Phebe M. Stickney came to us at our home 
on the prairies in Iowa, suggesting pecuniary comfort 
for the blessed old saint in the sunset of her remarka- 
ble and useful life, I never remember to have regretted 
more that I had so little at command to bestow. The 
Standard, however, reports the names of a number ot 
friends who were ready and willing to minister to her 
necessities. I hope others will do likewise. Few, if 
any, in the land are more worthy. Hers has been a 
life of pre-eminent devotion to the sacred cause 01 
liberty and purity. 

"The graphic sketch of her by the author of ' Uncle 
Tom's Cabin' has doubtless been read with interest 
by thousands. No pen, however, can give an ade- 
quate idea of Sojourner Truth. This unlearned Afri- 
can woman, with her deep religious and trustful nat- 
ure burning in her soul like fire, has a magnetic power 



SOJOURNER 'I RUTH. I I", 

over an audience perfectly astounding. I was once 
present in a religious meeting where Bome Bpeal 
had alluded to the government of the United Stales. 
and had uttered sentiments in favor of its Constitu- 
tion. Sojourner Btood, erect and tall, with her white 
turban en her head, and in a ]<>w and subdued tene of 
void began by saving: 'Children, I talks t<» God and 
I lod talks to me. T gees out and talks to < rod in de 
fields and ile woods. [The weevil had destroyed then 
sands of acres of wheat in the West that year.] I Ms 
morning I was walking out, and I got over de fen 
I saw de wheat a holding up its head, looking very 
big. I goes up and takes holt ob it. You b'lieve it. 
dere was no wheat dare? I says, God [speaking the 
name in a voice of reverence peculiar to herself], what 
is de matter wid dis wheat? and lie says to me, " So- 
journer, dere is a little weasel in it." Now I hears 
talkin' about de Constitution and de rights of man. 
I conies up and I takes hold of dis Constitution. It 
looks mighty big, and I feels for my rights, but der 
aint any dare. Pen I says, ( rod, what ails dis Con- 
stitution 1 He says to me, "Sojourner, dere is a lit- 
tle weasel in it." ' The effect upon the multitude was 
irresistible. 

•■ < >n a dark, cloudy morning, while she was our 
guest, she was sitting, as she often was wont to do, 
with her cheeks upon her palms, her elbows on her 
knees; she lifted up her head as though she had just 
wakened from a dream, and said, ' Friend Dugdale, 
poor old Sojourner can't read a word, will you git me 
de Bible and read me a little of de Scripter ?' Oh, 
yes. Sojourner, gladly, said T. I opened to Isaiah, 



148 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

the 59th chapter. She listened as though an oracle 
was speaking. When I came to the words, None 
calleth for justice, nor any pleadeth for truth ; your 
hands are denied with blood, and your lingers with 
iniquity ; they conceive mischief, and bring forth in- 
iquity ; they hatch cockatrice's eggs, and weave the 
spider's web ; he that eateth of their eggs dieth, and 
that which is crushed breaketh out into a viper, she 
could restrain herself no longer, and, bringing her 
great palms together with an emphasis that I shall 
never forget, she exclaimed, ' Is dat thare ? " It shall 
break out into a viper." Yes, God told me dat. I 
never heard it read afore, now I know it double /' Of 
course her mind was directed to the heinous institu- 
tion of American slavery, and she regarded these 
terrible words of the seer as prophetic concerning its 
fearful consequences. 

" On one occasion, in a large reform meeting, where 
many able and efficient public speakers were present, 
Sojourner sat in the midst. One man, in defiance of 
propriety, was wasting the time of the meeting by 
distasteful and indelicate declamation. Some, in de- 
spair of his ending, were leaving the meeting. Oth- 
ers, mortified and distressed, were silently enduring, 
while the ' ilea of the Convention,' continued to bore 
it, nothing daunted. Just at a point where he 
was forced to suspend long enough to take in a long 
breath, Sojourner, who had been sitting in the back 
part of the house with her head bowed, and groaning 
in spirit, raised up her tall figure before him, and, 
putting her eyes upon him, said, ' Child, if de people 
has no whar to put it, what is de use? Sit down, 



SOJOUltNEU TRUTH. 140 

child, sit down ." The man dropped as if he bad tw 
shot, and Qot another word was heard from him. 

■■A friend related the following an to me: 

In that period of the anti-slavery movement whi 
mobocratic violence was ofl in n sorted to, one of its 
most talented and devoted advocates, aft< r an able ad- 
dress, was followed by a lawyer, who appealed to the 
lowest sentiments was Bcurrilous and abusive in tl 
superlative degree. Alluding I Lored rac 

compared them to monkeys, baboons, and ourang- 
outangs. When he was about closing his inflamma- 
tory speech, Sojourner quietly drew near to the plat- 
form and whispered in the ear of the advocate of her 
people. ■! )o n't dirty your hands wid dat critter; let 
///< "tend to him !' The speaker knew it was safe to 
trust her. 'Children,' said she, straightening herself 
to her full hight, ' I am one of dem monkey tribi 
I was born a slave. I had de dirty work to do 
scullion work. Now 1 am going to 'ply to dis critter' 
— pointing her long, bony finger with withering seen 
at the petty lawyer. ' Now in de course of my time 
I lias done a great deal of dirty scullion work, but of 
all de dirty work I ever done, dis is de scullionist and 
de dirtiest.' Peering into the eyes of the auditory 
with just Buch a look as site could give, and that • 
one could imitate, she continued: 'Now, child re] 
don't you p7yme?' She lad taken the citadel bj 
storm. The whole audience shouted applause, and 
the negro haters as heartily as any. 

••1 was present at a large religion , convention. 
Love in the family had been portrayed In a mann 
to touch the better nature of the auditorv. Ju 



150 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

the meeting was about to close, Sojourner stood up. 
Tears were coursing down her furrowed cheeks. She 
said : ' We has heerd a great deal about love at home 
in de family. Now, children, I was a slave, and my 
husband and my children was sold from me.' The 
pathos with which she uttered these words made a 
deep impression upon the meeting. Pausing a mo- 
ment, she added : ' Now, husband and children is all 
gone, and what has 'come of de affection I had for 
dem 1 JJat is de question before de house /' The peo- 
ple smiled amidst a baptism of tears. 

" Let food and raiment be given her. There are 
many in the land who will be made richer by seeing 
that this noble woman shares their bounty ; and then, 
when her Lord shall come to talk with her, and take 
her into his presence chamber, and shall say, ' So- 
journer, lacked thou anything V she may answer, 
< Nothing, Lord, either for body or soul.' 

"J. A. D. 

" Xear Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, 1863." 

In April, 1863, a lengthy account of Sojourner's life 
was published in the Atlantic Monthly, entitled, "So- 
journer Truth, the Libyan Sibyl," written by Mrs. 
H. B. Stowe. This graphic sketch not only gave 
Sojourner greater notoriety, but added fresh laurels 
to Mrs. Stowe's increasing fame as an authoress. The 
description of her person and the portrayal of her char- 
acter arc so vivid that it finds a fitting place in her 
Book of Life, and is here fully given, 



mm: LIBYAN SIBYL. I ■"» I 



B0J01 RNEH l IM Til, Tin: LIB1 AN SIB1 I.. 

M M!\ years ago, th< • readers of radical j' 1 " 
I itionist papers must often have Been the Bingulai 
name of Sojourner Truth, announced as q frequent 
speaker at anti-slavery meetings, and as traveling on 
a sort of self-appointed agency through the country. 
I had myself often remarked the name but never met 
the individual. On one occasion, when our house was 
filled with company, several eminent clergymen being 
our guests, notice was brought up tome that Sojourner 
Truth was l;elow. ami requested an interview. Know- 
ing nothing of her but her singular name, ! went down, 
prepared to make the interview short, as the press- 
ure of many other engagements demanded. 

When I wont into the room, a tall, spare form an 
to meet me. She was evidently a full-blooded AtVi 
can, and though now aged and worn with many hard- 
ships, still gave the impression of a physical develop- 
ment which in early youth must have been as fine a 
specimen of the torrid /one as Cumberworth's cele 
brated statuette of the Negro Woman at the Fount- 
ain. Indeed, she so strongly reminded me of that 
Ggure, that, when I recall the events of her life, as she 
narrated them to me, 1 imagine her as a living, breath 
ing impersonation of that work of art. 

I do not recollect ever to have been conversant with 

any one who had more of that silent and Bubtle power 
w hieh we call personal presence than this woman. I n 
the modern spiritualistic phraseology, she would b 
le cribed as having a strong sphere. Her tall form, 
as she rose up before me. is slid vivid to my mind 



152 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

She was dressed in some stout, grayish stuff, neat and 
clean, though dusty from travel. On her head she 
wore a bright Madras handkerchief, arranged as a 
turban, after the manner of her race. She seemed 
perfectly self-pcssessecl and at her ease ; in fact, there 
was almost an unconscious superiority, not unmixed 
with a solemn twinkle of humor, in the odd, com 
posed manner in which she looked down on me. Her 
whole air had at times a gloomy sort of drollery which 
impressed one strangely. 

" So this is you" she said. 

" Yes," I answered. 

" Well, honey, de Lord bless ye ! I jes' thought I'd 
like to come an' have a look at ye. You's heerd o' me, 
I reckon?" she added. 

" Yes, I think I have. You go about lecturing, do 
you not?' 

" Yes, honey, that's what I do. The Lord has made 
me a sign unto this nation, an' I go round a- testify in,' 
an' showin' on em' their sins agin my people." 

So saying, she took a seat, and, stooping over and 
crossing her arms on her knees, she looked down on 
the floor, and appeared to fall into a sort of reverie. 
Her great, gloomy eyes and her dark face seemed to 
work with some undercurrent of feeling ; she sighed 
deeply, and occasionally broke out, 

" Lord'! Lord ! Oh, the tears, an' the groans. 
an' the moans, Lord ! " 

I should have said that she was accompanied by a 
little grandson often years — the fattest, j oiliest wool 
ly-headed litMe specimen of Africa that one can im- 
agine, lie wap grinning and showing his glistening 



THE LIBYAN BIBYL. 153 

white teeth in a Btate of perpetual merriment, and at 
this moment broke out into an audible giggle, which 
disturbed the reverie into which his relative was fall- 
in-. 

She looked at him with an indulgent Badness, and 
then ai me. 

•• ! lws, ma'am, //< don't know nothin' about it, h 
don't. Why, ['ve them poor critters beat an' 

'bused an' hunted, brought in all toi bangin' 

all in rags, where the dogs been a bitin' of 'en 

This four little African Puck into another 

giggle, in which he seemed perfectly convulsed. She 

J. v 

bui I him soberly, without the slightest irritation. 

•• Well, you may bless the Lord, you can laugh ; 
but I tell you, 't wa'n't no laughin' matter. 

By this time I thought her manner so original that 
it might be worth while to call down my friends ; and 
she seemed perfectly well pleased with the idea. An 
audience was what she wanted— it mattered not 
whether high or low, learned or ignorant She had 
things to Bay, and was ready to say th< m at all tin-' 
and to any one. 

I called down Dr. Beecher, Professor Allen, and 
two ,,i- three oth< r clergymen, who, together with my 
husband and family, made a roomful. No prin 
could have r< la drawing-room with more com- 

p > jed diguity than S >journer her audienc •. She stood 
among them, calm and it one of her own native 

pal in- trees waving alone in the desert. I presented 
one after another to her, and at last said 

•• Sojourner, this is I >r. i ' ccher. He i v« ry c< I 
• brated prea< I 



154 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

" Is he 1 " she said, offering her hand in a conde- 
scending manner, and looking down on his white head. 
" Ye dear lamb, I 'm glad to see ye ! De Lord bless 
ye ! I loves preachers. I 'in a kind o' preacher my- 
self." 

" You are 1 " said Dr. Beecher. " Do you preach 
from the Bible P 

" No, honey, can't preach from de Bible — can't read 
a letter." 

" Why, Sojourner, what do you preach from, then 1 " 

Her answer was given with a solemn power of 
voice, peculiar to herself, that hushed every one in the 
room. 

" When I preaches, I has jest one text to preach 
from, an' I always preaches from this one. My text 
is, ' When I found Jesus ! ' 

" Well, you could n't have a better one," said one of 
the ministers. 

She paid no attention to him, but stood and seemed 
swelling with her own thoughts, and then began this 
narration : — 

" Well, now, I '11 jest have to go back an' tell ye 
all about it. Y'e see we was all brought over from 
Africa, father, an' mother an' I, an' a lot more of us ; 
an' we was sold up an' down, an' hither an' yon ; an' 
I can 'member, when I was a little thing, not bigger 
than this 'ere,' pointing to her grandson, ' how my 
ole mammy would sit out o' doors in the evenin,' an' 
look up at the stars an' groan. She'd groan, an groan, 
an' sajs 1 to her, 

" ' Mammy, what makes you groan so 'I ' 

" An' she 'd sav, 



THE LIB! AN SIBYL, 1 •"■ 

•• • Matter enough, chili I ' m croanin' to think o' 
niv poor children : they don't know where I he, an' I 
don't know where they be; they looks up at the stars, 
an' I looks ii}) at the stars, bul I canM tell where they 
be. 

•••Now,' she Baid, 'chile, when you're grown up, 
you may be Bold away from your mother an 1 .-ill your 
old friends, an' have great troubles come on yej an' 
when you has these troubles come on ye, yej< to 

God, an' he'll help ye.' 

" An Bays 1 to her, 

" k Who is God, anyhow, mammy ?' 

•• An' says she, 

•• ■ Why, chile, yon jes' look up dar. Jt's him thai 
made all dt m / ' 

"Well, I did n't mind much 'bout < rod in them da 
I grew up pretty lively an' strong, an' could ro* a 
boat, or ride a horse, or work round, an' do 'most any- 
thing. 

•• At last 1 got sold away to a real hard massa an' 
missis. Oh, I tell you they was hard ! 'Pearedlike I 
couldn't please 'em nohow. An 1 then i thought o' 
what my old mammy told me about < rod : an' I thought 
I M got into trouble, sure enough, an' 1 wanted to find 
G m1. an' I heerd some one tell a story about a man 
that met God on a threshin'-floor, an' I thought, well 
an' good, ['11 have a threshin'-floor, too. So I w< 
down in the lot, and I threshed down a place real 
hard, an' I used to go down there every day, an' pi 
an' cry with all my might, a-prayin' to the Lord to 
make my massa an' missis better, but it did n'i 

do no -.tod : and so says I. one day, 



156 " 1500K OF LIFE. 

" ' Clod, I been a-askin' ye, an' askin' ye, an askin' 
ye, for all this long time, to make my massa an' mis- 
sis better, an' you do n't do it, an' what can be the 
reason 1 Why, maybe you cant. Well, I should n't 
wonder if you could n't. Well, now, I tell you, I '11 
make a bargain with you. Ef you '11 help me to git 
away from my massa an' missis, I '11 agree to be good ; 
but ef you do n't help me, I really do n't think I can 
be. Now,' says I, ' I want to git away ; but the 
trouble's jest here ; ef I try to git away in the night, 
I can't see ; an' ef I try to git away in the day-time, 
they'll see me an' be after me.' 

11 Then the Lord said to me, ' Git up two or three 
hours afore daylight, an' start off.' 

"An' says I, 'Thank'ee Lord ! that's a good thought.' 

" So up I got about three o'clock in the mornin', 
an' I started an' traveled pretty fast, till, when the 
sun rose, I was clear away from our place an' our 
folks, an' out o' sight. An' then I begun to think 1 
did n't know nothin' where to go. So I kneeled down, 
and says I, 

"'Well, Lord, you've started me out, an' now please 
to show me where to go.' 

" Then the Lord made a house appear to me, an' 
he said to me that I was to walk on till I saw that 
house, an' then go in an' ask the people to take me. 
An' I traveled all day, an' did n't come to the house 
till late at night ; but when I saw it, sure enough, I 
went in, an' I told the folks that the Lord sent me; 
an' they was Quakers, an' real kind they was to me. 
They jes' took me in an' did for me as kind as ef I 'd 
been one of 'em ; an' after they 'd giv me supper, they 



tlTE LIBYAN SIBYL. I J 1 

took me into :i r n where there was a great, tall, 

white bed ; an' they told mo to sleep (here. Well, 
honey, I was kind o' Bkeered when they lefl me alone 
with that great white bed \ 'cause I never had been 
in a bed in my life, \< never came into my mind 
they could mean me to Bleep in it. An' bo I jes' 

camped down under it, <>n the floor, an' thru I sle|'' 
pretty we'd. In the mornin', when they came in. 
they asked me ef I had n't been asleep ; an' I said, 
• Yes, I never Blep 1 better.' An' they said, 'Why, 
yon hav n't been in the bed!' An' says I, 'Laws. 
you did n't think <>' seeh a thing as my sleepin' in dat 
'ar* bed, did you? I never heered o' sech a thing in 
my life.' 

•• Well, ye see, honey, 1 stayed an' lived with 'em. 
An' m>w jes' look here: instead o' keepin' my prom- 
ise an' bein' good, as 1 told the Lord I would, jest as 
soon as everything got a goin' easy, I forgot all about 

d. 

"Pretty well don't need no help) an' I gin up 
prayin.' I lived there two or three years, an' then 
the slaves in New York were all set free, 'an oh' 
massa came to our house to make a visit, an' ho asked 
me ef 1 didn't want to go back an' see the folks i^\ 
the ole place. An' 1 told him I did. So he said, ef 
I M jes' git into the wagon with him, he'd carry me 

over. Well, jest as I was goin' OUt to get into the 

wagon, / met God! an' says [, '0 God, 1 didn't know 
as you was so greal An' I turned right round an' 
me into the house, an' set down in my room ; for 
'twas God all around me. I could feel it hurnin', 
burnin', burnin' all around me, an' goin' through me; 



1 58 " BOOK OF LTFE." 

an' I saw I was so wicked, it seemed as ef it would 
burn me up. An' I said, ' somebody, somebody, 
stand between God an' me ! for it burns me !' Then, 
honey, when I said so, I felt as it were some thin' like 
an amberill [umbrella] that came between me an' the 
light, an' I felt it was somebody— somebody that stood 
between me an' God ; an' it felt cool, like a shade ; 
an' says I, ' Who's this that stands between me an' 
God 1 Is it old Cato V He was a pious old preacher ; 
but then I seemed to see Cato in the light, an' he was 
all polluted an' vile, like me ; an' I said, ' Is it old 
Bally 1 ?' an' then I saw her, an' she seemed jes' so. 
An' then says I, ' Who is this?' An' then, honey, for 
awhile it was like the sun shinin' in a pail o' water, 
when it moves up and down ; for I begun to feel 
t'was somebody that loved me; an' I tried to know 
him. An' I said, 'I know you ! I know you ! I know 
you !' An' then I said, ' I don 't know you ! I don 't 
know you ! I don't know you !' An' when I said, 
' I know you, I know you ' the light came ; an' when 
I said, i I do n't know you, I do n't know you,' it 
went jes' like the sun in a pail o' water. An' finally 
some thin' spoke out in me an' said, 'This is Jesus!' 
An' I spoke out with all my might, an' says I, 
'This is Jesus/ Glory be to God!' An' then the 
whole world grew bright, an' the trees they waved 
an' waved in glory, an' every little bit o' stone on 
the ground shone like glass; and I shouted an' 
said, ' Praise, praise, praise to the Lord ! ' An' I 
begun to feel sech a love in my soul as I never felt 
before — love to all creatures. An' then, all of a sud- 
den, it stopped, an' I said, ' Dar 's de white folks that 



ill I . LIBYAN SIBYL. 150 

have abused you, an* beal yon, an' abused your po< pic 
— think «»' them !' But then there came another rush 
of love through my bouI, an' I pried <>ut loud ' Lord, 
Lord, I can love even de white folks/' 

■ Eloney, 1 jes' walked round an round in a dream. 

Jesus loved me! 1 knowed it 1 felt it. JeSUS WAS 

in\ Jesus, desus would love me alwaj I didn't 
dare tell nobody; 'twas a great Becret. Everything 
had been got away from me that I ever hadj an' I 
thought that ef I let white folks know- about this, 
maybe they'd get Him away so 1 said. 'I'll keep 
this close. 1 wont let anyone know." 

"But, Sojourner, had you never been told about 
Jesus Christ I" 

'•No. honey. I hadn't heerd no preachin'- been 
to no uieetin.' Nobody hadn't told me. I'd kind 
o' heerd of Jesus, but thought lie was like Gineral 
Lafayette, or some o' them. Bat one night there was 
a Methodist meetin' somewhere in our parts, an' I 
wont : an' they got up an' la-gun for to tell der 
'speriences: an' de fust one begun to speak. I started, 
'cause he told about Jesus. 'Why/ says I to myself, 
' dat man's found him, too !' An' another got up an' 
spoke, an' I said, 'lie's found him, too '. An' finally 
I Baid, ' Why, they all know him !' I was so happy ! 
An' thru they sung this hymn' (Here Sojourner 
sang, in a strange, cracked voice, but evidently with 
all her soul and might, mispronouncing the English, 
hut seeming to derive as much elevation and comfort 
from had English as from good): — 



100 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

"There is a holy city, 

A world of light above, 
Above the stairs and regions,* 
Built by the God of love. 

"An everlasting temple, 

And saints arrayed in white, 

There servo their great Redeemer 

And dwell with him in light. 



i < 



The meanest child of glory 
Outshines the radiant sun ; 

But who can speak the splendor 
Of Jesus on his throne ? 



"Is this the Man of Sorrows 
Who stood at Pilate's bar, 
Condemned by haughty Herod 
And by his men of war \ 

"He seems a mighty conqueror, 
Who spoiled the powers below, 
And ransomed many captives 
From everlasting woe. 



'a 



"The hosts of saints around him 
Proclaim his work of grace, 
The patriarchs and prophets, 
And all the godly race, 

"Who speak of fiery trials 

And tortures on their way ; 
They came from tribulation 
To everlasting day. 

"And what shall be my journey, 
How long I '11 stay below, 

' Starry regions. 



iiii; LIBYAN SIBYL. Mil 

I >r u h.it shall be my t ! i.tls, 
\iv QOt for D1Q to know . 

"In every day of trouble 

I '1! rai >e my thou ghts on high, 

I '11 think of tli.tt bright trinj.li> 
And crowns above tl Icy." 

I jiuL in this whole hymn, because Sojourner, car- 
ried away with her own feeling, sang it from begin- 
ning to end witli a triumphant energy that held the. 

whole circle around her intently listening. She sain' 
with the strong barbaric accent of the native African, 
and with those indescribable upward turns and the 
deep gutturals which give such a wild, peculiar power 
to the negro singing — but above all, with Buch an 
overwhelming energy of personal appropriation that 
the hymn seemed to be fused in the furnace of her 
feelings and come out recrjstallized as a production of 
her own. 

It is said that Rachel was wont to chant the ; ' Mar- 
Beillaise" in a manner that made her seem, for the 
time, the very spirit and impersonation of the gaunt, 
wild, hungry, avenging mob which rose against arisfc - 
cratic oppression ; and in like manner, Sojourner, sing- 
ing this hymn, seemed to impersonate the fervor <•!' 
Ethiopia, wild, sa\; hunted of all nations, but 

burning after God in her tropic heart, and Btretching 
her Bcarred hands toward the glory to be revealed. 
"Well, den ye see, after a while I thought I'd 
back an' see de folks on de oh- place. Well, yon know 
de law had p iss si dat de culled folks was all fn e : an' 

C 



162 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

my old missis, she had a daughter married about dis 
time who went to live in Alabama — an' what did she 
do but give her my son, a boy about de age of dis yer, 
for her to take down to Alabama 1 When I got back 
to de ole place, they told me about it, an' I went right 
up to see ole missis, an' says I, 

" ' Missis, have you been an' sent my son away down 
to Alabama T 

" * Yes, I have,' says she ; ' he's gone to live with 
your young missis.' 

" ' Oh, Missis,' says I, ' how could you do it 1 ' 

" ' Poh ! ' says she, ' what a fuss you make about a 
little nigger ! Got more of 'em now than you know 
what to do with.' 

" I tell you, I stretched up. I felt as tall as the 
world ! 

" ' Missis,' says I, ' Fll have my son back agin ! ' 

" She laughed. 

" * You will, you nigger? How you goin' to do it? 
You ha'n't got no money.' 

" ' No, Missis — but God has— an' you'll see he'll 
help me ! — an' I turned round an' went out. 

" Oh, but I was angry to have her speak to me so 
haughty an' so scornful, as ef my chile was n't worth 
anything. I said to God, ' O Lord, render unto her 
double ! ' It was a dreadful prayer, an' I did n't know 
how true it would come. 

" Well, I did n't rightly know which way to turn ; 
but I went to the Lord, an' I said to him, ' O Lord, 
ef I was as rich as you be, an' you was as poor as I 
be, I'd help you — you know I would ; and, oh, do help 
nie ! ' An' I felt sure then that he would. 



THE \.\\'\ AN SIBYL. Iti.'J 

•• Well, I talked with people, an' they said 1 must 
<Mt tin* case before a errand jury. So I went into the 
town when they was holdin' a court, t<> Bee ef I could 
fiud any grand jury. An' I Btood round the court- 
house, an' when they was a-comin' out, I walked ri^lit 
up to the grandest lookin' one I could see, an 1 says I 
to him : — 

" ' Sir, be you a grand .jury I ' 

•• An' then he wanted to know why I asked, an' I 
told him ;ill about it \ ;in' lie asked me all sorts of 
questions, an' finally he says to me : — 

" ' I think, ef you pay me ten dollars, that I'd agree 
to git your son for you.' An' says lie, pointin' to a 
house over the way, 'You go 'long an' tell your Btory 
to the folks in that house, an' I guess they'll give yon 
the money.' 

"Well, I went, an' 1 told them, an' they gave me 
twenty dollars ; an' then 1 thought to myself, ' Ef ten 
dollars will git him, twenty dollars will git him %ar- 
tin. 1 S » I carried it to the man all out, an' said, 

•• • Take it all — only be sure an' git him.' 

"Well, finally they got the boy brought back ; an 1 
then they tried to frighten him, an' to make him Bay 
that I wasn't his mammy, an" that ho didn't know 
me; but they couldn't make it out. They gave him 
to me. an' I took him and carried him home ; an' 
when I came to take off his clothes, then- was his 
poor little bark all covered with scars an' hard lumps, 
where they'd dogged him. 

" Well, you Bee, honey, I told you how I prayed lb< 
Lord to render unto her double. Well, it came true ; 
for 1 was up at ole missis' house not long after, an 1 I 



164 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

heerd 'em readin' a letter to her how her daughter's 
husband had murdered her — how he'd thrown her 
down an' stamped the life out of her, when he was in 
liquor ; an' my ole missis, she giv a screech, an fell 
flat on the floor. Then says I, 'O Lord, I didn't 
mean all that ! You took me up too quick.' 

" Well, I went in an' tended that poor critter all 
night. She was out of her mind — a cryin', an' callin' 
for her daughter ; an' I held her poor ole head on my 
arm, an' watched for her as ef she'd been my babby. 
An' I watched by her, an' took care on her all through 
her sickness after that, an' she died in my arms, poor 
thing!" 

" Well, Sojourner, did you always go by this name 1 " 

" No, 'deed ! My name was Isabella ; but when I 
left the house of bondage, I left everything behind. 
I wa'n't goin' to keep notbin' of Egypt on me, an' so 
I went to the Lord an' asked him to give me a new 
name. And the Lord gave me Sojourner, because I 
was to travel up an' down the land, showin' the peo- 
ple their sins, an' bein' a sign unto them. Afterward 
I told the Lord I wanted another name, 'cause every- 
body else had two names; and the Lord gave me 
Truth, because I was to declare the truth to the people. 

" Ye see some ladies have given me a white satin 
banner," she said, pulling out of her pocket and un- 
folding a white banner, printed with many texts, such 
as, " Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all 
the inhabitants thereof," and others of like nature. 
" Well," she said, " I journeys round to camp-meetiu's, 
an' wherever folks is, an' I sets up my banner, an' 
then I sings, an' then folks always comes up round 



rill. LIBYAN SIBYL. Id'. 

mo, an' then I preaches to 'cm. I tolls 'em about Je 
bus, an* I tells 'em about the sins of (his people. A 
great many always comes to hear me j an' they're right 
good t.» in.-, too, :m' s.i\ they want t<» hear me agin." 

We all thought it likely ; and as the company left 
her, they shook hands with her, ami thanked her for 
her very original sermon; and our of the ministers 
was overheard to say to another, "There's more of 
the gospel in that story than in most sermons." 

Sojourner staid several days with 1 is. a welc une 
LTucst. Her conversation was so strong, simple, 
shrewd, and with sncli a droll flavoring of humor, that 
the Professor was wont to f-ay of an evening, " I !on 
1 am dull, can't you get Sojourner up here to talk a 
little \" She would come up into the parlor, and i 
among pictures and ornaments, in her simple Btuff 
gown, with her heavy traveling shoes, the central ob- 
ject of attention both to parents and children, always 
ready to talk or to sing, and putting into the common 
How of conversation the keen edge of some shrewd >«■ 
mark. 

••Sojourner, -what do you think of women's 
Rights 1" 

" Well, honey, I 's ben to der meeting, an' harked 
a good <leal. I 'ey wanted me fur to speak. So I got 
up. Snys I, ' Sisters, I a'n't clear what you'd be after. 
Ef women want any rights more'n dey's got, why 
don't deyjes' take 'em t an' not be talkin' about it T 
Some on 'em came round me, an' asked why I did n't 
wear bloomers. An' 1 told 'em I had bloomers enough 
when I was in bondage. You see," she said, "dey used 
to weave what dey called nigger-cloth, an' each one of 



106 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

us got jes' seen, a strip, an' had to wear it width-wise. 
Them that was short got along pretty well, but as for 

me " She gave an indescribably droll glance at her 

long limbs and then at us, and added, " Tell you, I 
had enough of bloomers in them days." 

Sojourner then proceeded to give her views of the 
relative capacity of the sexes, in her own way. 

" S'pose a man's mind holds a quart, an a woman's 
don't hold but a pint; ef her pint is full, it's as good 
as his quart." 

Sojourner was fond of singing an extraordinary 
lyric, commencing, 

" I'm on my way to Canada, 

That cold, but happy, land ; 
The dire effects of slavery 
I can no longer stand. 

O righteous Father, 

Do look down on me, 
And help me on to Canada, 

Where colored folks are free ! " 

The lyric ran on to state that, when the fugitive 
crosses I he Canada line, 

"The queen comes down unto the shore, 
With arms extended wide, 
To welcome the poor fugitive 
Safe onto freedom's side." 

In the truth thus set forth she seemed to have the 
most simple faith. 

But her chief delight was to talk of " glory," and to 
sing hymns whose burden was, 



I in; LIBYAN SIBYL. 167 

•><> glory, glory, glory, 
Won't you come along with me ; " 

and when left (<» herself, she would often hum th< 
with great delight, nodding her head. 

On one occasion, 1 remember hejr Bitting at a win- 
dow singing and fervently keeping time with her head, 
tlif little black Puck "4" a grandson meanwhile amus- 
ing himself with ornamenting her red and yellow tur- 
ban with green dandelion curls, which Bhook and 
trembled with her emotions, causing him perfect con- 
vulsions of delight. 

-•Sojourner," said the Professor to her, one day, 
when he heard her singing, "you seem to he vei \ 
sure about Heaven." 

" Well, I he," she answered, triumphantly. 

"What makes you so sure there is any Heaven 1 ?" 

" Well, 'cause 1 got such a hankerin 1 arter it in 
here," she said — giving a thump on her breast with her 
usual energy. 

There was at the time an invalid in the house, and 
Sojourner, on learning it, felt a mission to go and 
comfort her. It was curious to see the tall, gaunt. 
dusky figure stalk up to the bed with such an air of 
conscious authority, and take on herself the office of 
consoler with Buch a mixture of authority and tender- 
ness. She talked as front above— -and at the same 
time, if a pillow needed changing or any office t<» be 
rendered, she did it with a strength and handiness 
that inspired trust. One felt as if the dark, strange 
woman were quite able to take up the invalid in her 
bosom, and bear her as a lamb, both physically and 









168 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

spiritually. There was both power and sweetness in 
that great warm soul and that vigorous frame. 

At length, Sojourner, true to her name, departed. 
She had her mission elsewhere. Where now she is I 
know not ; but she left deep memories behind her. 

To these recollections of my own I will add one 
more anecdote, related by Wendell Phillips. 

Speaking of the power of Hachel to move and bear 
down a w r hole audience by a few simple words, he 
said he never knew but one other human being that 
had that power, and that other was Sojourner Truth. 

He related a scene of which he was witness. It 
was at a crowded public meeting in Faneuil Hall, 
where Frederick Douglas was one of the chief speak- 
ers. Douglas had been describing the wrongs of the 
black race, and as he proceeded, he grew more and 
more excited, and finally ended by saying that they 
had no hope of justice from the whites, no possible 
hope except in their own right arms. It must come 
to blood ; they must fight for themselves and redeem 
themselves, or it would never be done. 

Sojourner was sitting, tall and dark, on the very 
front seat, facing the platform ; and in the hush ot 
deep feeling, after Douglas sat down, she spoke out 
in her deep, peculiar voice, heard all over the house, 

" Frederick, is God dead ? " 

The effect was perfectly electrical, and thrilled 
through the whole house, changing as by a flash the 
whole feeling of the audience. Not another word she 
said or needed to say ; it was enough. 

It is with a sad feeling that one contemplates noble 
minds and bodies, nobly and grandly formed human 



THE LIBYAN SIBYL. 169 

beings, that have come to as cramped, Bcarred, maimed, 
out of the prison-house of bondage. One Longs to 
know what Buch beings might have become, if suffered 
to untold :ui(l expand under the kindly developing in- 
fluences of education. 

It is the theory of some writers that to the African 
is reserved, in the later and palmier days of the earth, 
the full and harmonious development of the religious 
element in man. The African seems to sei/e on 
the tropical fervor and luxuriance of Scripture im- 
agery as something native; he appears to feel himself 
to he of the same blood with those old burning, sim- 
ple souls, the patriarchs, prophets, and seers, whose 
impassioned words seem only grafted as foreign plants 
(m the cooler stock of the occidental mind. 

I cannot but think that Sojourner with the same 
culture might have spoken words as eloquent and un- 
dying as those of the African Saint Augustine or Ter- 
tullian. How grand and queenly a woman she might 
have been, with her wonderful physical vigor, her 
great heaving sea of emotion, her power of spiritual 
conception, her quick penetration, and her boundless 
energy ! We might conceive an African type of wom- 
an so largely made and moulded, so much fuller in 
all the elements of life, physical and Spiritual, that the 
dark hue of the skin should seem only to add an ap 
propriate charm — as Milton says of his Penseroso, 
whom he imagines 

w Black, but such as in esteem 
Prince Memnon's sister might beseem, 
Or that starred Ethiop queen that Btrove 
To set her beauty's praise above 
The Bea-nymph's." 



170 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

But though Sojourner Truth has passed away from 
among us as a wave of the sea, her memory still lives in 
one of the loftiest and most original works of modern 
art, the Libyan Sibyl, by Mr. Story, which attracted so 
much attention in the late World's Exhibition. Some 
years ago, when visiting Rome, I related Sojourner's 
history to Mr. Story at a breakfast at his house. Al- 
ready had his mind begun to turn to Egypt in search 
of a type of art which should represent a larger and 
more vigorous development of nature than the cold 
elegance of Greek lines. His glorious Cleopatra was 
then in process of evolution, and his mind was work- 
ing out the problem of her broadly developed nature, 
of all that slumbering weight and fullness of passion 
with which this statue seems charged, as a heavy 
thunder-cloud is charged with electricity. 

The history of Sojourner Truth worked in his mind 
and led him into the deeper recesses of the African 
nature — those unexplored depths of being and feeling, 
mighty and dark as the gigantic depths of tropical 
forests, mysterious as the hidden rivers and mines of 
that burning continent whose life-history is yet to be. 
A few days after, he told me that he had conceived 
the idea of a statue which he should call the Libyan 
Sibyl. Two years subsequently, I revisited Home, 
and found the gorgeous Cleopatra finished, a thing to 
marvel at, as the creation of a new style of beauty, a 
new manner of art. Mr. Story requested me to come 
and repeat to him the history of Sojourner Truth, 
saying that the conception had never left him. I did 
so ; and a day or two after, he showed me the clay 
model of the Libyan Sibyl. I have never seen the 



THE LIB! w SIBYL. 171 

marble statue j but am told by those who have, thai 

it was by far the most impressi\e work of ar( at the 
Exhibition, 

A notice of the two statue:-: from the London Athe 
no a in must supply a description which 1 cannot give. 

"The Cleopatra and the Sibyl are seated, partly 
draped, with the characteristic Egyptian gown, that 
gathers about the torso and tails freely around the 
limbs j the lirst is covered to the bosom, the second 
bare to the hips. Queenly ( Jleopatra rests back against 
her chair in meditative ease, leaning her cheek against 
one hand, whose elbow the rail of the seat sustains ; 
the other is outstretched upon her knee, nipping its 
forefinger upon the thumb thoughtfully, as though 
some firm, willful purpose filled her brain, as it seems 
to set those luxurious features to a smile as if the 
whole woman 'would.' Upon her head is the coif, 
bearing in front the mystic urcus, or twining basilisk 
of sovereignty, while from its sides depend the wide 
Egyptian lappels, or wings, that fall upon her shoul- 
ders. The Sibilla Libica has crossed her knees — an 
action universally held amongst the ancients as indica- 
tive of reticence or secrecy, and of power to bind. A 
secret-keeping looking dame she is, in the full-bloom 
proportions of ripe womanhood, wherein choosing to 
place his figure the sculptor has deftly gone between 
the disputed point whether these women were blooming 
and wise in youth, or deeply furrowed with age and 
burdened with the knowledge of centuries, as Virgil, 
Livy, and Gellius say. Good artistic example might be 
<j noted on both sides. Her forward elbow is propped 
upon one knee; and to keep her secrets closer, tor 



172 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

this Libyan woman is the closest of all the sibyls, 
she rests her shut month upon one closed palm, as if 
holding the African mystery deep in the brooding 
brain that looks out through mournful, warning eyes, 
seen under the wide shade of the strange horned (xlm- 
monite) crest, that bears the mystery of the Tetra- 
grammaton upon its upturned front. Over her full 
bosom, mother of myriads as she was, hangs the same 
symbol. Her face has a Nubian cast, her hair wavy 
and plaited, as is meet." 

We hope to see the day when copies both of the 
Cleopatra and the Libyan Sibyl shall adorn the Capi- 
tol at Washington. 

Near the close of the article Mrs. Stowe said, " So- 
journer has passed away from among us as a wave of 
the sea." But as the wave describes larger circles in 
its outward bound course, so has her life become more 
significant as she has been borne forth into the ocean 
of life. Her work was then but just begun, and her 
record since that time shows a faith in the power of 
truth, a devotion in the cause of humanity, and a 
perseverance in the accomplishment of her purposes 
which command attention and respect. She had been 
around "a testifying," but now other duties were 
superadded. To the great work being done for the 
soldiers, she lent a helping hand, seeking every op- 
portunity to aid them. The first colored troops that 
enlisted from Battle Creek encamped in Detroit. As 
the thanksgiving season approached, Sojourner pro- 
posed that the citizens of that city should send 
the " boys " a dinner, to which they cordially re- 
sponded. In her soliciting rounds, she met a gentle- 



DAT iT CAMP WARD. I 72 

man whom she Invited to donate for the entertainment, 
He refused to do bo, and made some Bevere remarks 
about the war, bhe nigger, &c, Much Burprised, she 
asked him who he was. He replied, " I am the only 
s.»n of my mother." " I am i;la«l there are no more," 

said she, and passed en. Several Large l><>\es, COn- 

baining the luxuries of the season, n«.t forgetting the 
fattened tin key, were dispatched by the generous l" 
pie of the town with Sojourner as distributor. De- 
troit papers spoke of her efforts commendingly. 

•GALA DAY AT CAMP WARD. 

•• Address by SOJOURNER Truth. — The colored sol- 
diers at Camp Ward had a regular jubilee last Friday. 
About eleven o'clock a carriage drove up before Col. 
IVnnett's quarters laden with boxes and packages 
containing all manner of delicacies for 'the boys', 
sent from Battle Creek. Sojourner Truth, who car- 
ries not only a tongue of fire, but a heart of love, was 
the bearer of these offerings. The Colonel ordered 
the regiment into line 'in their best' for the presenta- 
tion, which was made by Sojourner, accompanied by 
a speeeh glow r ing with patriotism, exhortation, and 
good wishes, which was responded to by rounds of 
enthusiastic cheers. At the close of the ceremony, 
B journer spent an hour or two among the soldiers in 
motherly conversation, and assisting in opening the 
boxes and distributing their contents, which the re- 
cipients disposed of with hearty good-will. 

" Sunday afternoon, according to appointment. So- 
journer went up to the cam}) to deliver another ad- 



174 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

dress to the soldiers, but so large a crowd of white 
citizens were gathered to hear that her inspirations 
were devoted almost exclusively to their ears, with a 
promise of a future discourse for the soldiers. At the 
close of the lecture, a handsome collection was volun- 
teered for the benefit of the speaker. — Advertiser and 
Tribune:' 

In the spring of 1861, a brief article in the same 
journal mentioned her having gone to Washington to 
see Mr Lincoln. 

" To the Editor of the Advertiser and Tribune. 
"Many of our citizens are doubtless acquainted 
with the name of Sojourner Truth, have seen racy 
anecdotes of her from time to time in the newspapers, 
read Harriet Beecher Stowe's narrative of her in the 
Atlantic Monthly, and remember her stay of several 
months in this city five or six years ago. Those who 
called upon her at that time, were richly entertained 
by her original remarks, her ready wit, and the sto- 
ries of her wonderful life. She was then full of in- 
tense interest in the war, and foresaw its result in the 
emancipation of her race. It was touching to see her 
eager face when the newspapers were read in her 
presence. She would never listen to Mrs. Stowe's 
< Libyan Sibyl'. 'Oh!' she would say, 'I don't 
want to hear about that old symbol ; read me some- 
thing that is going on now, something about this 
great war.' She had utter faith in Abraham Lincoln. 
To a friend who was impatient with his slow move- 
ments she said, ' Oh, wait, chile ! have patience ! It 
takes a great while to turn about this great ship of 
gtate.' Toward spring she made ready for a journey 






\ [SIT TO BROOKLYN. I < 5 

to Washington, to Bee Mr. Lincoln. ' I shall Burely 
go, 1 slic Baidj ' I aever determined <<» do anything and 
failed.' And Bhe * 1 1 < 1 go the brave hearted, indomit- 
able old woman despite her light purse and heavy 
burden of seventy-seven years." 

She left Battle Creek in June, but did not immedi 
ately go to Washington. A New York paper Bays of 
her : — ■ 

" Sojourner has been Borne months in New York, 
speaking in many places with great acceptance, and is 
now in this city, where; she will speak this evening in 
bhe lecture room of the Unitarian Church, corner of 
Lafayette Avenue and Shelby Street. Let those who 
enjoy an original entertainment hear her. She is 
trying to pay off a mortgage on her little house in 
Battle Creek, (live her a full house 1 , and a generous 
contribution. Remember that herein the North, in 
the State of New York, she was robbed, by our race 
and l>y our laws, of FORTY YEARS of her life. Do we 
not owe her, from abundant fullness, some compensa- 
tion for those years with their entailed sorrow 1 

" ' There is that scattereth and yet mcreaseth.' 
" ' The, soul of the liberal man waxeth fat.' 
" 'The Lord loveth the cheerful giver.' 

"C. E. C." 

From New York she went to Brooklyn, and spoke 
in Plymouth Church, where a collection of •-' LOO was 
taken up for her. A Brooklyn paper speaks of her 
as follows : — 

"Sojourner Truth, whom the newspapers lately 
described as dying, reported herself in person to us 
last w a living contradiction of the false rumor. 



17G "BOOK OF LIFE." 

The old lady says that, so far from being at the point 
of death, she has not experienced for many months 
any symptom of sickness. Her age is now eighty, 
but her spirit continues as youthful as ever. On 
Sunday morning she heard Mr. Beecher's opening ser- 
mon of the season, which she called ' a feast for her 
poor old soul.' Sojourner's conversation is witty, 
sarcastic, sensible, and oftentimes profound. Her 
varied experience during a long life gives her a rich 
and deep fountain to draw upon for the entertainment 
and instruction of her friends, and her reminiscences 
and comments are equally interesting both to grown 
folks and children. She looks and acts as if she 
might live to be a hundred years old. She has up- 
lifted her voice to two generations of mankind, and 
may yet become sibyl and prophetess to a third." 

Sojourner reached Washington during the autumn, 
and in due time made her long-contemplated visit to 
the president. 

THE STORY OF HER INTERVIEW WITH THE 

PRESIDENT. 

The following letter from Sojourner Truth, writ- 
teu by a friend at her dictation, was addressed to 
Rowland Johnson, who has kindly handed it to us 
for publication. Our readers will be glad to see So- 
journer's own account of her visit to the president. 

"Fueedmax's Village, Va., Nov. 17, 1SG4. 

"Dear Friend :— 

"lam at Freedman's Village. After visiting the 
president, I spent three weeks at Mrs. Swisshelm's, 






[NTER\ l EW WITH I'll i: PRES1 DENT. I < < 

:iii<l held two meetings In Washington, at Rev. Mr. 
Garnet's Presbyterian Church, for the benefit of the 
Colored Soldiers' Aid Society. These meetings were 
successful in raising funds. One week after that I 

went t<> Mason's Island, and saw (lie freed men there, 
and held several meetings, remained a week and was 
present at the celebration of the emancipation of the 
slaves of Maryland, and spoke on that occasion. 

" It was about 8 o'clock a. m., when I called on the 
president. Upon entering his reception room we 
found about a dozen persons in waiting, among them 
two colored women, t had quite a pleasant time 
waiting until he was disengaged, and enjoyed his con- 
's t Tsation with others ; he showed as much kindness 
and consideration to the colored persons as to the 
whites — if there was any difference, more. One case 
was that of a colored woman who was sick and likely 
to be turned out of her house on account of her in- 
ability to pay her rent. The president listened to 
her with much attention, and spoke to her with kind- 
ness and tenderness. He said he had given so much 
he could give no more, hut told her where to go and 

get the money, and asked Mrs. (' -n to assist her, 

which she did. 

"The president was seated at his desk. Mrs. ( !. 
said to him, 'This is Sojourner Truth, who has come 
all the way from Michigan to sec you.' He then 
arose, gave me his hand, made a how, and said, ' I am 
pleased tO See you.' 

"I said to him, Mr. President, when you first took 
your seat T feared you would be torn to pieces, for 1 

J) 



178 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

likened you unto Daniel, who was thrown into the 
lion's den ; and if the lions did not tear you into 
pieces, I knew that it would be God that had saved 
you ; and I said if he spared me I would see you be- 
fore the four years expired, and he has done so, and 
now I am here to see you for myself. 

"He then congratulated me on my having been 
spared. Then I said, I appreciate you, for you are 
the best president who has ever taken the seat. He 
replied : ' I expect you have reference to my hav- 
ing emancipated the slaves in my proclamation. But,' 
said he, mentioning the names of several of his prede- 
cessors (and among them emphatically that of Wash- 
ington), 'they were all just as good, and would have 
done just as I have done if the time had come. Jf 
the people over the river [pointing across the Poto- 
mac] had behaved themselves, I could not have done 
what I have ; but they did not, which gave me the 
opportunity to do these things.' I then said, I thank 
God that you were the instrument selected by him 
and the people to do it. I told him that I had never 
heard of him before he was talked of for president. 
He smilingly replied, ' I had heard of you many times 
before that.' 

" He then showed me the Bible presented to him 
by the colored people of Baltimore, of which you have 
no doubt seen a description. I have seen it for my- 
self, and it is beautiful beyond description. After I 
had looked it over, I said to him, This is beautiful in- 
deed ; the colored people have given this to the head 
of the government, and that government once sanc- 
tioned laws that would not permit its people to learn 



i ri;\ n:\\ w itii tin: PRESID1 N P. IT' 1 

enough to enable them to read this book. And t'"i 
whal I I .'•[ them answer who can. 

" I 1 1 1 u s i Bay, an<l 1 am proud to say, tli.it I nevei 
was treated by any one with more kindness and cor- 
diality tli;tn were Bhown to me by that great and good 
man, Abraham Lincoln, by the grace of God presidenl 
of the United States for four years more. II" took 
my little book, and with the same hand that Bigned 
the death-warrant of slavery, lie wrote us follows : 

" ' For Aunty Sojourner Truth, 

"'Oct 29, L864. A. Lincoln.' 

"As I was taking my leave, he arose and took my 
hand, and said lie would be pleased to have me call 
again. T felt that T was in the presence of a friend, 

and T now thank <!od from the bottom of my heart 
that I always have advocated his cause, and have done 
it openly and boldly. I shall feel still more in duty 
bound to do so in time to come. .May God assist me. 

•• N'ow I must tell you something of this place. 1 
found things quite as well as I expected.. I think I 
can l>e useful and will stay. The captain in command 
of the guard has given me his assistance, and by his 
aid I have obtained a little house, and will move into 
it to-morrow. Will you ask .Mrs. P., or any of my 
friends, to send me a couple of sheets and a pillow ? 
I find many of the women very ignorant in relation 
to house-keeping, as most of them were instructed in 
field labor, but not in household duties. They all 

in to think a great deal of me, and want to learn 
the way we live in the North. I am listened to with 
attention and respect, and from all things, I judge it is 



180 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

the will of both God and the people that I should re- 
main. 

"Now when you come to Washington, don't forget 
to call ar.d see me. You may publish my wherea- 
bouts, and anything in this letter you think would in- 
terest the friends of Freedom, Justice, and Truth, in 
the Standard and Anglo- African, and any other paper 
you may see lit. 

"Enclosed please find four shadows [carte de visites]. 
The two dollars came safely. Anything in the way 
of nourishment you may feel like sending, send it 
along. The captain sends to Washington every day. 
Give my love to all who inquire for me, and tell my 
friends to direct all things for me to the care of Capt. 
George B. Carse, Freedman's Village, Va. Ask Mr. 
Oliver Johnson to please send me the Standard while 
I am here, as many of the colored people like to hear 
what is going on, and to know what is being done for 
them. Sammy, my grandson, reads for them. We 
are both well, and happy, and feel that we are in good 
employment. I find plenty of friends. 

"Your friend, Sojourner Truth." 

" The colored population of Baltimore have procured 
the most beautiful Bible ever manufactured in this 
country, to be presented to the President of the United 
States. The cover bears a large plate of gold, repre- 
senting a slave with his shackles falling from him in 
a cotton field, stretching out his hands in gratitude to 
President Lincoln for the freedom of the slave. At 
the feet of the freed man there is a scroll bearing upon 
its face the word ' Emancipation,' in large letters. On 
the reverse cover is another gold plate containing the 



l.\Ti:UYli:\\ w l l II THE PRESIDENT. 18] 

following inscription: 'To Abraham Lincoln, I *i . 
dent of the United States, the friend of universal 
freedom, by the loyal colored people of Baltimore, as 
a token of respect and gratitude. Baltimore, July 
I tli, 1864.' The book is enclosed in a walnut Bilver- 
mounted box. The entire affair cost $5,800." 

Although in Sojourner's estimation Abraham Lin- 
coln was the "foremost man of all this world," yel uo 
idle curiosity prompted her to ask this interview. 
From the head of the nation she sought that author- 
ity which would enable her to take part in the awful 
drama which was enacting in this Republic, and thai 
being obtained, she at once entered upon her work. 

When we follow her from one field of labor to an- 
other, her time being divided between teaching, 
preaching, nursing, watching, and praying, ever ready 
to counsel, comfort, and assist, we feel that, for one 
who is nobody but a woman, an unlettered woman, a 
black woman, and an old woman, a woman born and 
bred a slave, nothing short of the Divine incarnated 
in the human, could have wrought out such grand 
results. 

In December she received the following commission 
from the National Freedman's loll, f Association : 

" Nbw York, Dec. I, l 864. 
" This certifies that The National Freedman's R< 
lief Association has appointed Sojourner Truth to be 
a counselor to the freed people at Arlington Heights, 
Va., and hereby commends her to the favor and confi 
deuce of the officers of government, and of all 

who take an interest in relieving the condition of tic 



182 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

freedrnen, or in promoting their intellectual, moral, 

and religious instruction. 

" On behalf of the K F. R. Association, 

" F. G. Shaw, President, 

" CiixMiLES C. Leigh, 

" Chairman of Home Com." 

Sojourner spent more than a year at Arlington 
Heights, instructing the women in domestic duties, 
and doing much to promote the general welfare. She 
especially deprecated their filthy habits, and strove to 
inspire them with a love of neatness and order. On 
the Sabbath she preached to large and attentive con- 
gregations, and was once heard to exclaim, "Be clean ! 
be clean ! for cleanliness is godliness." 

Liberty was a stranger to these poor people. Hav- 
ing but lately been introduced to the goddess, they 
had never yet so much as touched the tips of her 
lovely fingers, and dared not raise their bowed heads 
to steal even a sidelong glance at her radiant face. 
Thus, being wholly unfamiliar with her divine attri- 
butes, they often submitted to grievous wrongs from 
their old oppressors, not presuming to expostulate. 
The Marylanders tormented them by coming over, 
seizing, and carrying away their children. If tie 
mothers made a "fuss," as these heartless wretches 
called those natural expressions of grief in which be- 
reaved mothers are apt to indulge, they were thrust 
into the guard- house. When this was made known 
to Sojourner, she told them they must not permit 
such outrages, that they were free, and had rights 
which would be recognized and maintained by the 



\ r WORK IN l III. HOSPITAL. L83 

laws, and thai they could bring these robbers to 

justice. 

This was a revelation indeed, for they had never 
known that freedom meant anything more to them 
than being no Longer obliged to serve a master, and 
at liberty to lounge about in idleness. But her ele< 
trifying words Beemed to inspire them with new life 
and to awaken the latent spirit within them which, 
like lire in flint, had lain torpid for ages, but, unextin- 
guished and unextineuishable, awaited only favorable 
conditions bo escape in freedom. The manhood and 
womanhood of these crushed people now asserted it- 
self, and the exasperated Marylanders threatened to 
put Sojourner into the guard-house. She told them 
that if they attempted to put her into the guard- 
house, she. ' ; would make the United States rock like 

a cradle." 

Soon after the Freedmen's Bureau was established, 
Sojourner was appointed to assist in the hospital, as 
the following letter will show : — 

"WAR DEPARTMENT, 

"iliRE.u- of Refugbbs, Fbbbdhbn, and Abandoned Lands. 

" Washington, September 18, 1865. 
"Sojourner Truth has good ideas about the indus- 
try and virtue of the colored people. I commend her 
energetic and faithful efforts to Surgeon (Human, in 
charge of Freedmen's Hospital, and shall be happy to 
have him give her all facilities and authority so far 
as she can aid him in promoting order, cleanliness, 
industry, and virtue among the patients. 

"John Eaton, J el, 

,l Got. and Assistant Commissioner" 



184 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

While Sojourner was engaged in the hospital, she 
often had occasion to procure articles from various 
parts of the city for the sick soldiers, and would some- 
times be obliged to walk a long distance, carrying her 
burdens upon her arm. She would gladly have 
availed herself of the street cars ; but, although there 
was on each track one car called the Jim Crow car, 
nominally for the accommodation of colored people, 
yet should they succeed in getting on at all they woidd 
seldom have more than the privilege of standing, as 
the seats were usually filled with white folks. Un- 
willing to submit to this state of things, she com- 
plained to the president of the street railroad, who 
ordered the Jim Crow car to be taken off". A law 
was now passed giving the colored people equal car 
privileges with the white. 

Not long after this, Sojourner, having occasion to 
ride, signaled the car, but neither conductor nor 
driver noticed her. Soon another followed, and she 
raised her hand again, but they also turned away. 
She then gave three tremendous yelps, " I want to 
ride ! / want to ride ! ! I want to ride ! ! ! Con- 
sternation seized the passing crowd — people, carriages, 
go-carts of every description stood still. The car was 
effectually blocked up, and before it could move on, 
Sojourner had jumped aboard. Then there arose a 
great shout from the cro,wd, " Ha ! ha ! ha ! ! She 
has beaten him," &c The angry conductor told her 
to go forward where the horses were, or he would put 
her out. Quietly seating herself, she informed him 
that she was a passenger. " Go forward where the 
horges are, or J will throw you out," said he in a men- 












INCIDENT AT GEORGETO^ I 85 

aoing voice, She told bim thai Bhe was neither a 
Marylander nor a Virginian to fear bis threats; but 
w.-is from the Empire State of New York, and knew 
i be laws as well as he did. 

Several soldiers were in the car, and when other 
passengers canu in, they related tin- circumstance 
and said, ii You ought to have heard thai old woman 
talk to the conductor." Sojourner rode farther than 
Bhe needed to go j for a ride was so rare a privilege 
that Bhe determined to make the most of it. She left 
the car feeling very happy, and said, " Bless God ! I 
have had a ride." 

Returning one day from the Orphan's Home at 
Georgetown, she hastened to reach a car; hut they 
paid no attention to her signal, and kept ringing a 
bell that they might not hear her. She ran after it, 
and when it stopped to take other passengers, Bhe suc- 
ceeded in overtaking it and, getting in, said to the 
conductor, "It is a shame to make a lady run so." 
II.' told her if Bhe said another word, he would put 
her off the car, and came forward as if to execute his 
threat She replied, " [f you attempt that, it will 
e<>st you more than your ear and horses are worth." 
A gentleman of dignified and commanding manner, 
wearing a general's uniform, interfered in her behalf, 
and the conductor gave her no further trouble. 

A i another time, she was sent to Georgetown to 
obtain a nurse for the hospital, which being accom- 
plished, they went to the station and took scats in an 
empty car, but had not proceeded far before two la 
dies came in, and seating themselves opposite bh< col 
•■red woman began a whispered conversation, I 






186 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

quently casting scornful glances at the latter. The 
nurse, for the first time in her life finding herself in 
one sense on a level with white folks and being much 
abashed, hung her poor old head nearly down to her 
lap ; but Sojourner, nothing daunted, looked fearlessly 
about. At length one of the ladies called out, in a 
weak, faint voice, " Conductor, conductor, does nig- 
gers ride in these cars 1 " He hesitatingly answered, 
" Ye yea-yes," to which she responded, " 'T is a shame 
and a disgrace. They ought to have a nigger car on 
the track." Sojourner remarked, " Of course colored 
people ride in the cars. Street cars are designed for 
poor white, and colored, folks. Carriages are for la- 
dies and gentlemen. There are carriages [pointing 
out of the window], standing ready to take you three 
or four miles for sixpence, and then you talk of a nig- 
ger car ! ! ! " Promptly acting upon this hint, they 
arose to leave. "Ah!" said Sojourner, "now they 
are going to take a carriage. Good by, ladies." 

Mrs. Laura Haviland, a widely known philanthro- 
pist, spent several months in the same hospital and 
sometimes went about the city with Sojourner to pro- 
cure necessaries for the invalids. Returning one day, 
being much fatigued, Mrs. Haviland proposed to take 
a car although she was well aware that a white per- 
son was seldom allowed to ride if accompanied by a 
black one. " As Mrs. Haviland signaled the car," says 
Sojourner, " I stepped one side as if to continue my 
walk and when it stopped I ran and jumped aboard. 
The conductor pushed me back, saying, ' Get out of 
the way and let this lady come in.' Whoop ! said I, 
I am a lady too. We met with no further opposition 



: -i; in \ STREET « \i:. L87 

till we were obliged to change cars. A man coming 
out as we were going into the next car, asked the 
conductor If 'niggers were allowed to ride. 1 The 
conductor grabbed me by the Bhoulder and jerking me 

around, ordered me to get out. I told liim I would 
not. .Mrs. Haviland took hold of my other arm and 

said, ■ Don't put her out.' The conductor asked it* I 
belonged to her. 'No,' replied Mrs. Haviland, 'She 
belongs bo humanity. 1 'Then take her and go,' said he, 
and giving me another push slammed mc against the 
door. 1 told him I would let him know whether he 
could shove me about like a dog, and said to Mrs. 
Haviland, Take the number of this car. 

" At this, the man looked alarmed, and gave us no 
more trouble. When we arrived at the hospital, the 
surgeons were called in to examine my shoulder and 
found that a bone was misplaced. I complained to 
the president of the road, who advised me to arrest 
the man for assault and battery. The Bureau fur- 
nished me a lawyer, and the fellow lost his situation. 
It created a great sensation, and before the trial was 
ended, the inside of the cars looked like pepper and 
salt ; and I felt, like Poll Parrot, Mack, I am riding.' 
A little circumstance will show how great a change a 
few weeks had produced : A lady saw some colored 
women looking wistfully toward a car, when the con- 
ductor, halting, said, 'Walk in, ladies.' Now they 
who had so lately cursed me for wanting to ride, 
could stop for black as well as white, and could even 
condescend to say, 'Walk in, ladies.'" 

The city of Washington was now literally swarming 
with a class of people who had by the war bei d 



188 " BOOK OF LIFE." 



thrown upon the surface of society like mud from a 
volcano, and who were not unlike that article in respect 
to being dirty and entirely unfitted by a want of con- 
tact with refining and favorable influences to obtain 
and maintain a hold upon civilization. A report from 
the superintendent of police will help to explain their 
condition : — 



"CONDITION OF THE DESTITUTE COLORED 
PEOPLE OF THE DISTRICT. 

" I a the Senate, on Tuesday, while the bill reported 
by Senator Morrill appropriating $25,000 for the re- 
lief of destitute colored people of the District was un- 
der consideration, the following letter from Superin- 
tendent of Police Richards was read : — 

"DEPARTMENT OF METROPOLITAN POLICE. 
"Office of Sup't, 4S3 Tenth St., west, 
" Washington, JJ>/r<-U 6, I860. 

" Gentlemen : — 

" I have the honor at this time to submit a report, 
based mainly upon personal inspection, of the sanitary 
condition of certain localities in the city of Washing- 
ton, inhabited by colored people, mostly known as 
' contrabands,' together with certain other facts con- 
nected with the condition of these people. 

" The first locality visited is known as ' Murder 
Bay,' and is situated between Thirteenth and Fif- 
teenth Streets west, below Ohio Avenue, and bordering 
on the Washington Canal. Here crime, filth, and pov- 
erty seem to vie with each other in a career of degrada- 
tion and death. Whole families, consisting of fathers, 



Til E I ' >l.< >R1 D PE< MM i . I8fl 

mothers, children, uncles, and aunts, according to 
their own statements, are crowded into mere apologii 
for Bhanties, which arc without light or ventilation. 
During the storms of rain or snow their roofs afford 
hut Blight protection, while from beneath q few rough 
boards used for doors the miasmatic effluvia from the 
most disgustingly filthy and stagnant water, mingled 
with the exhalations from tin' uncleansod bodies oi 
numerous inmates, render the atmosphere within 
these hovels Btifling and Bickening in the extreme. 
Their rooms are usually not more than six or eight 
feet square, with not a window or even an opening 
(except a door) for the admission of light Some of 
the rooms arc entirely surrounded by other rooms, so 
that no light at all reaches where persons live and 
spend their days and nights. In a space about fifty 
yards square I found ab tut one hundred families, 
composed of from three to ten persons each, living in 
Bhanties one story in hight, except in a few instances 
where tenements are actually built on the tops of oth- 
ers. There is a distance of only three or lour feel 
separating these buildings from each other — not even 
as convenient as an ordinary three-feet alley. Thi 
openings lead in bo devious a course that one with 
difficulty finds his way out again. Thus pent up, no< 
even these piths are purified by currents of fresh air. 
In one building visited, seventeen families were found 
upon the ground floor, c insisting of from two to Beven 
persons each, our restaurant, and one boarding-hou 
The s.t, .ml story is a large dance hall, when- th< 
people nightly congregate for amusement. 

•• Nearly all of these people came from Virginia 



190 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

during the rebellion, and some of tliem propose to re- 
turn whenever they are assured that they can find 
work to do there, and will be well treated. It was 
found that from five to eight dollars per month are 
paid for the rent of these miserable shanties, except 
in some instances, where a ground rent of three dol- 
lars per month is paid for a little spot covering a few 
square feet — there some of the more enterprising have 
erected cabins of their own. These, also, are in equally 
close proximity to each other, so that it is with diffi- 
culty that one can crowd between them. 

" On the west side of Fourteenth Street near the 
same locality, are a large number of small buildings, 
which, however, are kept in a somewhat more cleanly 
condition, and are opened to light and ventilation. 
Here some of the occupants of houses boast of small 
back yards, but so low and wet are their surfaces that 
they are a curse rather than a benefit. Filthy water 
here accumulates, from which, with the advent of 
warm weather, the seeds of disease must spread among 
and destroy these wretched people. 

"In each of these localities there are no proper 
privy accomodations, and those that exist are in a 
leaky and filthy condition generally. Nor can the 
sanitary laws be properly enforced against delinquents, 
for they have no means wherewith to pay fines, and a 
commitment to the work-house is no punishment. I 
can see no efficient mode of remedying this evil ex- 
cept that scavengers be employed at the public ex- 
pense, to visit these localities ; though by far the best 
remedy would be to require that these buildings be 
razed to the ground. 



THE COLORED PEOPLE. 191 

" Under the best sanitary laws that can be enacted, 
and stringently enforced, these places can be considered 
as nothing better than propagating grounds of crime, 
disease, and death; and in the case of a prevailing 
epidemic, the condition <>f these localities would be 
horrible to contemplate. 

•■ A similarly crowded lot of shanties exists on 
Rhode Island Avenue, between Tenth and Eleventh 
Streets, though as to fresh air and cleanliness, a some- 
what better condition of things exists. Mere, in a 
space some two hundred feet square, two hundred and 
thirteen persons reside, mostly known as 'contra- 
bands.' There are several other places equally 
crowded within the city limits, which I have not yet 
had time to visit and inspect personally; for which 
purpose I respectfully ask for further time. 

"A. C. Richards, SupH. 

"To the Board of Police." 

Sojourner, witnessing the alllictions of her people, 
and desiring to mitigate their sufferings, found hom< S 
and employment for many in the Northern States, 
government furnishing transportation for all. In 
the winter of 1867, she made three trips from 
Rochester to a town about 200 miles south of Rich- 
mond, to obtain laborers for those localities left <h sti- 
tute by the war ; but she soon came to see that this 
was not the best mode of procedure, as it cost a 
great amount of labor, time, and money to locate the 
young and strong, leaving the aged and little children 
still uncared for. 

The imagination can scarcely conceive a more liar- 
rowing spectacle than the vast multitude', composed 






192 "BOOK OF LIFE. 

of both sexes, and all ages from helpless infancy to 
tremulous senility, roaming about, having no posses- 
sions but the bodies which had recently been given 
them by a dash of Abraham Lincoln's pen. Surging 
to and fro, this motley crowd could claim no more of 
mother earth than sufficed for standing room, and 
were liable at any time to be ordered, like Joe, " to 
move on." 

Thus they were borne upon the waves of society as 
a wrecked ship upon the sea, stripped of spar and sail, 
rudder and compass, tempest tossed upon the black 
and sullen deep, with no ray of light to illumine its 
pathway of gloom. The heads of government, seeing 
and commiserating their hapless state, established 
what was called the Freedman's Bureau as a measure 
of relief, and by its orders each ward daily furnished 
to the refugees 700 loaves of bread, which served to 
sustain life, but was inadecpiate to meet the emer- 
gency; for civilization has needs which cannot be 
supplied by bread alone. 

It was sad to see the hungry mass stretch forth its 
hand, seize the proffered loaf, seek a spot where it 
might be devoured, and idle away the time till another 
loaf was due. And could the Bureau have ministered 
to all their wants, would not this mode of life become 
productive of enormous evils, since the habits it fos- 
tered, having been engendered by the system of slav- 
ery, needed no such encouragement] This institution 
was emphatically the necessity of the hour, but neither 
wisdom nor prudence would advise its continuance. 

The race was increasing at a rapid rate, and the 
drain upon the national treasury would become ex- 



THE COLORED PEOPLE. L93 

haustive. Still, justice demanded that government 
take officient legislative action in the interest <>f these 
people, whom the genius of General Butler had de- 
nominated contrabands, as some reward for years of 
uncompei I i services. 'Nations anxiously watching 
the Bcales in which tin's government and its dependent 
millions musl be weighed, waited to render their ver- 
dict. Advancement moves with slow and feeble pace. 
The new hinges upon the old. In obtaining freedom, 
these people were separated from many things, lor 
which, as yet, they had received no equivalent. Those 
who had not where to lay their heads thought of the 
rude cabin once their home, in pleasant contrast with 
the present couch of earth, canopied by the over-arch- 
ing sky. i languishing with homesickness, the worst 
of ailments, they were a striking counterpart of those 
sorrowing captives who, sitting by the rivers of Bab- 
ylon, hung their harps upon the willows and wept for 
remembered joys. 

Their coarse food and clothing cost them no thought 
while in slavery. But in a moment comes a change. 
Now, all thought and action must be bent upon self 
support. But from transmitted habits many were 
powerless to exercise the functions of the brain in 
planning for the future, and, though they had arri\< d 
at man's estate, must be cared for like children. As 
Sojourner went about the city, she soon came to dia 
tinguiflh these contrabands. They had a dreamy look, 
taking no note of time; it seemed as if a pause had 
com,- in their lives — an abyss, over whose brink they 
dared not look. With so few resources, with b( 
clouded minds, with no education from books or poD 

E 



194 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

tact with the world, aside from plantation life — stran- 
gers in a strange land, hungry, thirsty, ragged, home- 
less, they were the very impersonation of Despair, 
humbly holding out her hands in supplication. 

Sojourner had known the joys of motherhood — 
brief joys, for she had been cruelly separated from her 
babes, and her mistress' children given to occupy the 
place which nature designed for her own. She had 
tasted its sorrows, too — such sorrows as Rachel, weep- 
ing for her children because they were not, could 
never feel. She had drained the cup of woe to the 
very dregs, and its fumes, like liquid fires, had dried 
the fountain of tears till there were none to flow. 

But many years had passed since that season of 
affliction. The shackles had been removed from her 
body, and spirit also. Time dissolves the hardest sub- 
stance—'tis called the great destroyer — it reconstructs 
as well. As the divine aurora of a broader culture 
dispelled the mists of ignorance, love, the most pre- 
cious gift of God to mortals, permeated her soul, and 
her too-long-suppressed affections gushed from the 
sealed fountains as the waters of an obstructed river, 
to make new channels, bursts its embankments and 
rushes on its headlong course, powerful for weal or 
woe. Sojourner, robbed of her own offspring, adopted 
her race. Happy for the individual, good for human- 
ity, when high aspirations emanate from sad experi- 
ences ! 

The forlorn and neglected children who prowled 
about the city excited her commiseration ; for they 
had neither homes nor employment, and as idleness is 
the parent of crime, they were becoming exceedingly 



THE COLORED PEOPLE. L95 

vicious, Aja a punishment for misdemeanors, they 
were Bent to tin' station house, from which, after Ben 
ing their time, they were released, only to continue 
the same destructive course. Slavery's teachings had 
bedimmed their perceptions of right, and rendered 
them incapable of continued moral effort j for 1 
blighting influence, worse than ;i millstone about their 
necks, tended to drag them downward f< and 

forevermore. 

Intelligently appreciating the Law of transmits d 
tendencies, Sojourner Looked upon them as sinned 
against as well as sinning. Knowing that the children 
were the future nation, and that those of her r 
would play no unimportant part in that future, she 
felt the need of enlisting sympathy, either human or 
superhuman, in their behalf Aided by Gen. How- 
ard, she held meetings in one of the largest churches 
of the city, to urge the establishment of industrial 
schools, remote from the city, where they might be 
placed and taught to become useful members of com- 
munity. Had she possessed the power and influence 
of the humane and philanthropic Gov. Bagley, insti 
tutions such as he has recently been instrumental in 
establishing would have sprung into being, till home- 
Less, neglected children would b ive been no m< 

The past she abhorred, with its collies, its loaded 
whips, auction blocks, brutal masters, overseers, and 
all the fearful horrors accruing from the ownership of 
man by his fellow-man; the sufferings of the pn 

lied out her deepest sympathies j but as Bhe peered 

toward the future with sibyl eves, her heart beat h»ud 

and fast ; for sin saw in it all grand possibility 



196 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

The angel of emancipation had roiled the stone away 
from the door of the sepulcher of slavery, and the res- 
urrected millions, bound hand and foot in the grave- 
clothes of ignorance, bewildered and uncertain, awaited 
guidance in this transition hour. 

Would a Moses appear to remove the bands from 
wrist and ankle, and with uplifted finger pointing to 
the pillar of cloud and of promise, lead them forth from 
this sea of troubles and plant their weary feet upon 
the Canaan of their desires 1 Would manna descend 
from heaven to feed this multitude, who were morally, 
physically, and intellectually destitute'? As neither 
man nor miracle appeared, Sojourner said, "Lord, let 
me labor in this vineyard." 

But how begin the work of establishing right rela- 
tions where chaos reigns 1 Justice must constitute the 
bottom round in this ladder of progress, up which the 
race must mount in the struggle to reach higher con- 
ditions. How can justice be secured 1 

As she looked about upon the imposing public edi- 
fices that grace the District of Columbia, all built at 
the nation's expense, she said, " We helped to pay this 
cost. We have been a source of wealth to this repub- 
lic. Our labor supplied the country with cotton, until 
villages and cities dotted the enterprising North for 
its manufacture, and furnished employment and sup- 
port for a multitude, thereby becoming a revenue to 
the government. Beneath a burning southern sun 
have we toiled, in the canebrake and the rice swamp, 
urged on by the merciless driver's lash, earning mill- 
ions of money ; and so highly were we valued there, 
that should one poor wretch venture to escape from 






SAGACIOUS PItEDU TION. 19*3 

this lull of slavery, no exertion of man <>r trained 
blood-hound was Bpared to Beize and return him to 
liis field of unrequited labor, 

" The overseer's horn awoke us at the dawning <>f 
day from our half finished Blumbers to pick the disgust 
ing worm from tlic tobacco plant, which was an added 
source of wealth. Our nerves and Binews, our tears 
and blood, have been sacrificed on the altar of this na 
tion's avarice. < >ur unpaid labor has been a Btepping- 
stone to its financial success. Some of its dividends 
must surely be ours." 

Who can deny the logic of her reasoning? The 
prophet* of the nineteenth century said, many yens 
ago, that " our nation will yet be obliged to pay sigh 
for sigh, groan for groan, and dollar for dollar, to this 
wronged and outraged race." Ah, me ! what an aw- 
ful debt when we consider that every mill of interest 
will surely be added ! Did mothers and wives wh< 
husbands and sons languished and died in Libby and 
Andersonville ever think of that prophecy ] 1 >oes 
this nation realize that the debt is still unpaid ? the 
note not taken up ye 

She knew that the United States owned countless 
acres of unoccupied land, which by cultivation would 
become a source of wealth to it. She also saw that 
it was given to build railroads, and that large reserva- 
tions were apportioned to the Indians. Why not give 
a tract of land to those colored people who would 
rather become independent through their own exer- 
tions than longer clog the wheels of government 1 

It seemed t<> Sojourner that the money expended 

Parker Pillsbury. 



198 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

upon officials, in just this District alone, to convict 
and punish these vagabond children, would be ample 
to provide for them homes with the accessories of 
church and school-house and all the necessary require- 
ments of civilization. With God's blessing, they 
might yet become an honor to the country which had 
so cruelly wronged them. This scheme presented itself 
to her mind as a divine revelation, and she made haste 
to lay her plan before the leading men of the govern- 
ment. They heard her patiently, expressed them- 
selves willing to do the people's bidding ; but mani- 
fested no enthusiasm. She regretted now, as ever, 
that women had no political rights under government ; 
for she knew that could the voice of maternity be 
heard in the advocacy of this measure, the welfare, 
not only of the present generation, but of future ones, 
would be assured. 

As it requires both the male and female element to 
propagate and successfully rear a family, so the State, 
being only the larger family, demands both for its life 
and proper development. As those who had the 
power to legislate for the carrying out of this measure, 
regarded it indifferently, and those who would gladly 
work for its accomplishment lacked political oppor- 
tunity, some other measure must be adopted. She 
thought that whatever else had been denied to woman, 
she had ever been allowed to stand on praying ground, 
and that through petition she might be able to reach 
the head and heart of the government, or rather half 
the head and half the heart, as only in this proportion 
have they ever been represented in our country's legis- 
lation. She therefore dictated the following petition : — 



PETITION TO CONGRESS. 199 

11 To the Senate and Souse of Repbesentativi 

in Congress assembled : — 

- Whereas, From the faithful and earnest reprosen 
tationa of Sojourner Truth (who has personally invea 
bigated bhe matter), we believe that the freed colored 
people in and about Washington, dependent upon 
government for support, would be greatly benefited 
and might become useful citizens by being placed in a 
position to support themselves : We, the undersigned, 
therefore earnestly request your honorable body to set 
apart for them a portion of the public land in the 
West, and erect buildings thereon for the aged and in- 
firm, and otherwise legislate so as to secure the de- 
sired results." 

The vitalizing forces of her nature were now fully 
aroused and deeply earnest. She felt that her lifo 
culminated at this point, and that all her previous ex- 
periences had been needful to prepare her for this 
crowning work. Being com r inced of tho feasibility 
and justice of this plan, sho hastened to present her 
petition to the public, and solicit signatures. Her 
first lecture for this object was delivered in Provi- 
dence, R. I., in Feb., 1S7<>, to a large and apprecia- 
tive audience. 

THE VOICE OF THE TRESS. 

"Tho renowned Sojourner Truth spoke in the town 
hall last evening, and gave one of her peculiar and 
forcible appoals, distinguished for native wit, elo- 
quence, and religious pathos. Tho burden of hex 
message was the urgent necessity for colonizing in the 



200 



(C 



BOOK OF LIFE. 



» 



West, on land which she calls upon government to 
give them, the large number of freed people collected 
in and around Washington. During the war, at the 
request of President Lincoln, Sojourner spent much 
time among these people to do them good. With that 
clear insight and native -good sense for which she is 
remarkable, she saw that the course pursued by gov- 
ernment, in supporting them by charity instead of 
putting them in the way of sustaining themselves, 
was working immense mischief. True statesmanship 
demands that government give them lands in the West, 
thus paying a little of the great debt we owe this long- 
oppressed people, while at the same time leading them 
to support themselves, to enrich the nation, and be- 
come useful citizens. Sojourner wants the people to 
petition Congress to do this work at once. At this 
very time, as appears by a letter read at the meeting 
last evening, some of the freedmen are dying of star- 
vation, right in sight of our national capitol. Peti- 
tions have been placed in the hands of friends of this 
movement, and it is hoped every person will sign as 
soon as opportunity is offered." — s. h., in Northamp- 
ton (Mass.) 'paper. 



FROM FALL RIVER PAPERS. 

" Sojourner Truth — the colored American Sibyl — 
is spending a few days in our city, and will gladly 
welcome any of her old or new friends at the house of 
Robert Adams, Esq., on Rock Street. She bears her 
four-score years with ease, showing no signs of decay, 
but conversing on all familiar topics with a clearness 
of apprehension that would hardly be expected of one 



THE FALL KIYKI; PAPERS. 01 

who has passed through the varied unpleasant experi 
encea which have fallen to her lot. Give her a call, 
and enjoy a half hour with a ripe understanding, and 
do n't forget to purchase her photograph." 

" Sojourner Truth — the colored American Sibyl 
will speak in the vestry of the Franklin Street ( Ihurch, 
on Monday evening. Come and hear an original." 

"Sojourner Truth. — Sojourner Truth had a good 

audience at the Christian Church, last evening, and 
delivered a very unique and interesting address. 
Many more would have attended had they been aware 
how pleasantly the evening woidd have been spent in 
company with the aged philosopher. Her theme was 
the duty of the North to the emancipated negroes. 
Many of her photographs were purchased. It is not 
impossible that she may speak again during her stay 
here." 

"Sojourner Truth will speak at the vestry of the 
First M. E. Church, to-morrow evening, Friday, Oct. 
14th, at a quarter before <S o'cloek. This will proba- 
bly be the last opportunity, at least for some time, 
that our citizens will have of hearing this interesting 
and decidedly original character." 

" Sojourner Truth had a large audience in the ves- 
try of the First M. E. Church, last evening, and was 
listened to with interest for somewhat more than an 
hour. She will remain here a few days longer, at M r. 
Robert Adams'." 

'•Sojourner Truth. — Your readers will notice 
that this eminent colored ladv will discourse this 



202 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

evening, at the vestry of the First Methodist Church, 
on Main Street, on various topics. Her utterances 
at the Franklin Street Church, on Monday evening 
last, drew out quite an audience, which was exceed- 
ingly entertained by her instructive remarks ; but as 
very limited notice was previously given, there was 
not the attendance from the male sex which she 
wished to see, as her talk is on a matter that pecul- 
iarly interests tax-payers. This ancient saint has 
given largely of her time to the bettering of the con- 
dition of the freedmen at Washington, and in that 
capacity has discovered certain abuses which should 
be rectified. All who come to listen will learn how 
some of the public money goes that is nominally ap- 
propriated to feed the black paupers in Washington. 
Her scheme for their improvement is practical, and 
should be put in operation at once. 

" We hope our friend James Bumngton, who has a 
voice in the administration of the money of the peo- 
ple, will be present and take note of her points on 
this matter. As a nomination here amounts to an 
election, he may consider himself in for the next two 
years, and can aid immensely in straightening out 
this abuse. No gang of paupers should be allowed to 
huddle together like pigs anywhere, and be fed out of 
the public funds. Go and hear on the subject. 

"Everybody, of course, knows of Sojourner Truth, 
of her sad early life as an abject slave under the old 
laws of New York, until she was forty years old ; of 
her growth in wisdom which seemed born in her as 
an inheritance ; of her active benevolences in all di- 
rections ; of her shrewd repartees and wise sayings 









I in: i\i. i. i:i\ u: PAP1 i 203 

which will go down as proverbs among the intelligent 
For coming ages; of her goodness as a nurse to our 
sick and wounded soldiers when at an advanced age ; 
of her Bharp Logic and pointed satire when wanned 
up on subjects of interest. 

M All these have been Bet forth by pens of power in 
description, and will live in Btory for coming genera 
(ions. 'The Lord never hearn tell on ye,* was her 
comforting remark to a young clergyman very much 
afflicted for tear the women would get their rights. 
'Is <!<»(! dead, Frederick?' to Douglas, when fore 
casting the sad late of his race in the old slave days. 
Don't come expecting One rhetoric, finished grammar, 
or dictionary pronunciation j but if you want to hear 
an earnest soul of eighty or more years, on the bor- 
ders of the coming world, still young in the graces of 
Christian charity, and ardent in the work assigned 
her, talk of right and justice, and set them forth with 
a spirit and skill that learned men might well envy, 
turn out to-night. Do n't forget that she has photo- 
graphs of herself for sale — her only m< ans of support 
for expenses of travel, livelihood, and a humble home 
in Michigan — and that while she 'sells the shadow to 
support the substance,' it will probably he tin- last 
time we shall see the lady among us. Don't forget 
the hour — one-quarter before 8 o'clock this evening." 

FROM NEW JERSEY PAPERS. 

11 Springfield, Union County, New Jersey, and its 
Presbyterian Church were honored on Wednesday 
night by the presence of that lively old negro mummy, 
whose age ranges among the hundreds — Sojourner 



204 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

Truth — who fifty years ago was considered a crazy 
woman ; who was wont to address street meetings and 
Garrison abolition conventicles. She was smuggled 
into the church by some pious radical to give her re- 
ligious experience ; and she did it — rather to the 
confusion and disgust of the audience. When re- 
spectable churches consent to admit to the houses 
opened for the worship of God every wandering negro 
minstrel or street spouter who may profess to have a 
peculiar religious experience, or some grievance to re- 
dress, they render themselves justly liable to public 
ridicule. The effects of our late civil war, which 
brought many of our divines upon the political ros- 
trum, and converted many of our pulpits into recruit- 
ing stations, we fear will not soon be removed. 

" Our Springfield correspondent writes of the visit 
of Sojourner Truth : — 



a i 



Mislike me not for my complexion, 

The shadowed liv'ry of the burnished sun.' 

" ' Thus Shakespeare. But we do most decidedly dis- 
like the complexion and everything else appertaining to 
Mrs. Truth, the radical — the renowned, saintly, liberat- 
ed, oratorical, pious slave. The superintendent of the 
Presbyterian Sunday-school, hearing such glowing 
accounts of her, invited her to speak to his charge. 
She spoke on the 1st inst., not on religion, but at ran- 
dom, on copperhead Jersey, hypocrites, freemen, wom- 
an's rights, etc., till the superintendent was forced 
to call her to order. She is a crazy, ignorant, repell- 
ing negress, and her guardians would do a Christian 
act to restrict her entirely to private life.'' 



THE NEW JERSEY PAPE] 1 ( ' 

"Sojoubneb Truth Defended. —Whenever 1 have 
heard the Slate of New Jersey Btigmatized, I have al- 
ways resented its being used as a mark of derision and 
a jest for scoffers ; but a circumstance that occurred 
last week has proved it a fit land for missionaries to 
enter with books to enlighten the inhabitants, and 
purifiers with Bcourges to correct the people. The 
village of Springfield, that prides itself on its great 
age, had the honor of a visitor (no 
than Sojourner Truth) — a dear creature, one of the 
Lord's true servants, who has worked in his vineyard 
for forty years, and who, at the great age of eighty, 
instead of taking her ease during the infirmities of 
old age, feels that as long as the Lord gives her 
the breath of life slie must work for his glory. Her 
fame went through all the land many years ago, and 
she numbers among her dearest friends the most in- 
tellectual, renowned, and gifted men and women of 
our land, and many are the weeks she has spent in 
the homes of those dear to our people. She has held 
happy converse with our lamented president, and our 
present one ; has spoken in Beecher's Church to thou- 
sands, in many of our State capitol buildings, and our 
nation's senate chamber. Turn from these happy 
greetings and behold her welcome in New Jersey ! — 
no, not there, but in a small, benighted corner, when 
the people pride themselves on their being and re- 
maining as a century ago. They were so ignorant a 
people they knew not they had a great guest, and 
many had not even heard of Sojourner Truth. Then 
they had so little good breeding they left during her 

marks, interrupting and showing disrespect to "Id 



206 . "BOOK OF LIFE." 

age, which always commands respect. Then to show 
their ignorance, their lilliputian minds, they write of 
her as being a crazy woman, an old mummy that ought 
to be enclosed in an asylum. That is the testimony 
of Springfield, N. J., to be placed by the side of beau- 
tiful letters of cheer, volumes full of well-wishes and 
blessings from such personages as Lincoln, Gen. Grant, 
Henry Ward Beecher, Gen. Howard, Sumner, Phillips, 
Anna Dickinson, Lucretia Mott, &c, &c, — men and 
women we all long to meet and take by the hand, and 
would be rejoiced to call our friends. 

'" By ignorance is pride increased ; 
Those most assume who know the least ; 
Their own self-balance gives them weight, 
But every other finds them light.' — Gay's Fables. 

"A New Springfield Correspondent." 

" Sojourner Truth. — Sojourner Truth, now about 
fourscore years, who has devoted the whole of her 
time during the last twenty years of her life to the 
interests of the colored race, and during the late re- 
bellion gave her personal service to the important 
work of educating the freed men and women in the 
moral, social, and domestic duties of life, without fee 
or reward, is now engaged in getting signatures to a 
petition to Congress for the benefit of a large class of 
dependent freed men who may bo found around Wash- 
ington and other places in the South. 

" Sojourner Truth is now at her home at Battle 
Creek, in Michigan, and writes us a letter under date 
of November 29. She has just returned from an ex- 
tensive tour through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michi- 



Till M W .11 | PAP] !] 207 

gan, Wisconsin, Iowa, Missouri, and Kansas, and 
wishes to carry her petition, to which Bhe 1ms obtained 
many signatures, to Washington this winter, and pr< 
sent it personally to Cong] She makes an appeal 

for a little pecuniary aid to defray the exp of her 

journey, and giyes information that a narrative of her 
life will soon bo published which will undoubtedly be 
full of interest, as her life has been an eventful one. 

EL J. 

"Orang . N. J." 

" Sojourner Truth addressed a good-sized audience 
at the Unitarian Church on Wednesday evening, Jan. 
\2. Mr. Clute, in introducing her, said that he had 
a three fold pleasure in doing so. First, lie was sure 
the audience would be entertained by her varied i 
jierience of more than eighty years. Secondly, the 
lecturer was a negro, and her presence on the platform 
was a living argument for the admission of her race 
to all the privileges of society. Thirdly, the lecturer 
was a woman who has for many years affirmed that 
woman's humanity gives her claim to education, la 
bor, and the ballot. 

" The lecturer spoke for more than an hour in her 
usual, humorous, common-sei yle. She gave some 
account of her thought o Bhe was a heathen, and 

said there was no little heaihi nism in the very heart 
of the churches to-day. »oke of the Fatherhood 

of God, and of his loving care for all his children ; of 
tin- brotherhood of man and of the duty of men t<» la- 
bor for each other. Her remarks were interspersed 
with anecdotes fitly illustrating the subject, and had 
such point :nnl pungencj trried the truth home," 



)> 



208 "BOOK OF LIFE. 



FROM A WILLIAMSBURGH (L. I.) PAPER. 

" Lecture of a Colored Woman. — The female lec- 
turer, styling herself ' Sojourner Truth,' who was for 
many years a slave, delivered a lecture last evening in 
the Congregational Church, corner of South Third and 
Eleventh Streets, Williamsburgh. The lecturer, who 
is quite aged, commenced by saying that she was born 
a slave in this State, and resided on the banks of the 
North River, near Albany, until the time of her eman- 
cipation, which took place when she was — twenty- 
five years of age. During that time she had five dif- 
ferent masters, some of whom were very severe, and 
she related with tears in her eyes the manner in 
which she had been tied up in the barn, with her 
clothes stripped from her back, and whipped until the 
blood stood in pools upon the floor ; and scars upon 
her back were undeniable proofs of her assertion. 
She had been twice married, and had five children, 
the oldest being forty years of age. Her husbands 
and children were torn from her and sold into bondage, 
the youngest at the age of five years having been tak- 
en to Alabama. She said that she never had any 
learning, and while in bondage was not allowed to 
hear the Bible or any other books read. Her mother 
often told her of God, and her impressions were that 
God was a very large human being, who sat in the 
skies. 

" 'About a year previous to my emancipation, I ran 
away from my master, and went to live with Mr. 
Wagner ; it was here that a change first came over 
my heart, and I felt that I was a sinner. I prayed 
to God, and he answered my prayers, and I have ex- 



NIK BOSTON PAPERS. 209 

perionced his blessings. I Baid, I really believe i am 
;i sinner, and that Jesus died for me. I had never 
been <<> church, and never heard any <»nr say this. I 
believe my only sin consisted in wishing harm to the 
white folks j but now I love everybody.' 

" A flter Bpeaking of the condition of the colored race, 
she spoke of the white people, and their hoi- ling human 
beings in bondage, and asked how it would be with 
them when summoned before the bar of Judgment to 

answer for their deeds upon earth. The Bpeaker also 
narrated tho history of her mother-in-law, who was 
stolen from her native land in Africa and brought to 
this country and sold into bondage. The lecture was 
delivered in a simple yet affecting manner." 

FROM BOSTON PAPERS. 



'• BMANCIPA HON MEETING. 



• • , • 



(hmmem&ration of the Eighth Anniversary of Negro 
/•'/■-"/<</// in th< United States .1 Large Gathering and 
Eloquent Speeches in Tremont Temple, Jan, I, 1871. 

"The eighth anniversary of the emancipation of 
negro slaves in the United States was commemorated 
in Tremont Temple last evening by a large gathering 
and eloquent speeches, under the auspices of the Na- 
tional Association for the Spread of Temperance and 
Night Schools among the Freed People of the South. 
The admission was free, and at a comparatively early 
hour the Temple began to be filled, for 7 o'clock was 
the time announced for the services to commence, and 

seldom is there an occasion of more attraction* or 

F 



210 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

greater general interest. Every available space of 
sitting or standing room was crowded. Professor 
Gardiner was present. 

" The platform was occupied by the Tremont Tem- 
ple choir, the distinguished personages of the evening, 
such as Rev. J. D. Fulton, Rev. Gilbert Haven, and 
Rev. L. A. Grimes, and many others, not omitting to 
mention Sojourner Truth, of Jersey, and William 
Wells Brown, M. D., who has in numerous instances 
taken a leading position among New England's ora- 
tors, and who has done a great deal to elevate the 
colored race a grade higher in the strata of civiliza- 
tion. Mr. Brown is president of the National Asso- 
ciation above alluded to, and as a matter of course he 
officiated as chairman of the meeting. The services 
were opened with the singing of a hymn by the choir, 
after which Mr Brown read a portion of the Scriptures. 
Prayer was then offered by Rev. Mr. Grimes, the choir 
sang another hymn, and Mr. Brown made a half-hour's 
address. 

" The Rev. J. D. Fulton was the next speaker. He 
congratulated the meeting upon the work of ennobling 
and elevating the black race, but while he did so he 
could not forget the perils which surrounded it in a 
city like Boston. This emancipation was but the be- 
ginning of a big job. Mental emancipation from the 
chains of ignorance was a felt necessity, and education 
must be given the black men now. The freedmen of 
the South without education will be cursed rather 
than blessed by the ballot. ' I do not believe,' he 
said, ' in anybody casting a vote in this land that 
cannot read and write.' (The meeting applauded.) 






Tin: BOSfOfc PAPERS. :' I I 

• N>>u don't you cheer me/ said Mr. Fulton, 'this i 
I tod'a night, and I do n't want t<> be cheered.' 

• At this juncture there was a movemenl at the left 
end <>t' the platform, and Rev. Gilbert Haven and So 
journer Truth appeared. .Mr. Pulton turned around 
to the good old lady and said, indicating the scat he 
had occupied previous to taking the floor, 'Now, 
Aunty, you take this easy chair. 1 (Laughter and a] 
plause.) .Mr. Pulton — 'Now J do wish you would n't 
do that.' The Bpeaker then concluded his remarks by 
an earnest advocacy of temperance, and further obser 
vations upon education; and at a quarter before eight 
o'clock left the Temple to take the train for New 
Fork." 

"REMARKS BV REV. GILBERT HAVEN. 

"A collection was then taken up, a hymn sung by 
the choir, and Rev. Gilbert Haven introduced. He 
had the misfortune, he said, of coming after the king 
(referring to Mr. Fulton) and before the queen (re- 
ferring to Sojourner Truth), and of course a person in 
that position was of very little account except to get 
out of the way. But such things were matters of 
necessity, and he woukl endeavor to do his best. He 
dwelt at some length upon the emancipation procla- 
mation and spoke particularly of the happiness mani- 
fested by Frederick Douglass upon the occasion of its 
declaration. The time of this anniversary meeting 
had been most appropriately chosen. It was fitting 
that we celebrate this great event upon a Sabbath 
evening, for in the Bible itself we find that the most 
sacred festival was on account of the deliverance from 



212 "ROOK OF LIFE. 

the land of bondage. The present situation of affairs 
must be accepted with all our hearts. If we do not 
so accept it, there is more danger in ourselves than 
we are aware of. As to our duty to the South and to 
the colored people, Mr. Haven said there must be a 
brotherly feeling everywhere. First, we must assist 
in Christianizing our emancipated brethren, both 
white and black, in the South. By so doing we shall 
be disarmed of our predjudice and hostility. Sec- 
ondly, we must give them education. There is a pas- 
sion of thirst for it there, and there Are a great many 
ways of working it out. There's the Institute of In- 
struction in Washington, and freedmen's societies. 
But, some way or other, we must put ourselves in 
connection with the teacher of the South. We need 
the school system. Thirdly, we must add to churches 
and schools prohibition. Mr. Haven spoke of the 
terrible system of intemperance which prevails, and 
called for the immediate and unconditional extirpation 
of it by a rigid prohibitory law. They have got to 
have prohibition down South. The black men are 
becoming terribly demoralized by rum ; and America 
has got to meet this issue or America goes to ruin. 
Boston is fast becoming a Sodom and a hell ; on every 
side this demoralization is occurring. There is also 
work to be done in Boston. We must have a national 
education and a national prohibition ; and one thing 
more we need, and that is homes, lands for the freed- 
men. That I shall let my good friend chiefly dwell 
upon. 

" Thus introduced, Sojourner Truth took the stand. 
She spoke about half an hour, substantially as follows, 






I i;r in.. FROM BOJOl LINEB TIM l n. 213 

the piquancy of her remarks being greatly (lightened 
by tin' inimitable patois, it' it may be bo called, of her 
expression : — 

" I i;i ill- l ROM 80J01 RB I "i: TBI I'll. 

" ' Well, chilern, I'm glad 1<> Bee so man} together. 
Ef I am eighty-three years old, I only count my age 
from de time dat J was Emancipated. Thru I 'gun ter 
live. God is a fulfilling an 1 my lost time dat I lost 
bein' a slave was made up. Wen I was a slave I 
hated de w'ite pepul. .My mother said to me when 1 
was to be sole from her, " I want to tole ye desc tings 
dat yon will allers know dat I have tole yon, for dar 
will be a great many tings tole yon after I sta't out 
ob dis life inter de world to come." An' J say dis to 
yon all, for here is a great many pepul dat when I 
Step out ob dis existence, dat yon will know what yon 
heered ole Sojourn' Truth tell yon. I was boun' a 
slave in the State of Noo Yo'k, I'lster County, 'moDg 
de low Dutch. Wen I was ten \ old, I couldn't 
speak a word of Inglish, an' hah no eddicati'n at all. 
I >ere's wonder what dey has done fur me. A 8 I tole 
you w'eii 1 was sole, my master died, an' we was L, r oin' 
to hal» a auction. We was all brought up to be sole. 
.My mother, my fader was very ole, my brudd 
younger 'en myself, an' my mother took my han\ 
|)ey opened a eanohy ob ebben, an' she sat down an' 
I an' my brudder sat down by her. en she says, " 
up to d«- moon an' stars dat shine upon yon fath< r an' 
upon yon mother when you sole far away, an' upon 
Mm brudders an' sisters, dat is sole away," \'<>r d« n 
was a great number oh us, an' was all sole away !•■ 



21-i "BOOK OF LIFE." 

for' my mernbrance. I asked her who had made de 
moon an' de stars, an' she says, " God," an' says I, 
Where is God 1 " Oh !" says she, " chile, he sits in de 
sky, an' he hears you w'en you ax him w'en you are 
away from us to make your marster an' misteress 
good, an' he will do it." 

" ' When we were sole, I did what my mother told 
me ; I said, O God, my mother tole me ef I asked 
you to make my marster an' misteress good, you'd do 
it, an' dey did n't get good. [Laughter.] Why, says 
I, God, mebbe you can't do it. Kill 'em. [Laughter 
and applause.] I did n't tink he could make dem 
good. Dat was de idee I had. After I made such 
wishes my conscience burned me. Then I wud say, 
O God, don't be mad. My marster make me wick- 
ed ; an' I of'm thought how pepul can do such 'bom- 
inable wicked things an' dere conscience not burn dem. 
Now I only made wishes. I used to tell God this — I 
would say, * Now, God, ef I was you, an' you was me 
[laughter], and you wanted any help I'd help ye ; — 
why done you help me? [Laughter and applause.] 
Well, ye see I was in want, an' I felt dat dere was no 
help. I know what it is to be taken in the barn an' 
tied up an' de blood drawed out ob yere bare back, 
an' I tell you it would make you think 'bout God. 
Yes, an' den I felt, God, ef I was you an' you felt 
like I do, an' asked me for help I would help you — 
now why won't you help me 1 Trooly I done know 
but God has helped me. But I got no good marster 
ontil de las' time I was sole, an' den I found one an' 
his name was Jesus. Oh, I tell ye, did n't I fine a 
good marster when I use to feel so bad, when I use to 



n;i i us FROM SOJOURNEB I Rl I n. 215 

say, God, how ken I libel I'm Borely 'preet both 
widin mid widout, WVn God gi' me dat marster he 
healed all de wounds up. My bou! rejoioed. I used 
bo hate de w'ite pepul so. an' 1 tell ye w'eo de lobe 

come in me I had bo much lobe I did n't know what 
to lobe. Den de w'ite pepul come, an' 1 thought (hit 
lobe was too good fur dem. Den \ said, 5Tea, God, 
I'll lobe ev'ybuddy an' de w'ite pepul too. liver since 
dat, dat lobe has continued an' kep' me 'niong de w'ite 
pepul. Well, 'mancipation came j we all know; can't 
stop to go troo de hull. I go fur adgitatin'. But I 
believe dere is works belong wid adgitatin', too. On'y 
think ob it ! Ain't it wonderful dat God gives lobe 
enough to de Ethiopins to lobe you? 

" ' Now, here is de question dat I am here to-night to 
say. I been to Washin'ton, an' I fine out dis, dat de 
col ud pepul dat is in Washin'tun libin on de gobern- 
inent dat de United Staas ort to gi' 'em Ian' an' move 
'em on it. Dey are libin on de gov'ment, an' dere is 
pepul takin' care of 'em costin' you so much, an' it 
don't benefit him 'tall. It degrades him wuss an' 
wuss. Therefo' I say dat these people, take an' put 
'em in do West where you ken enrich 'em. I know 
de good pepul in de South can't take care of de ne- 
groes as dey ort to, case de ribUs won't let 'em. How 
much better will it be for to take them culud pepul 
an' give 'em land? We've airnt Ian' enough for a 
home, an' it would be a benefit for yon all an' God 
would bless de hull ob ye for doin' it, hey nay, Lei 
'em take keer of derselves. Why, you've taken dat 
all away from 'em. Ain't got nullin let". Get dese 
culud pepul out of Washin'tun oil' ob de gov'ment, an' 



216 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

get de ole pepul out and build dem homes in de West, 
where dey can feed themselves, and dey would soon 
be abel to be a pepul among you. Dat is my com- 
mission. Now adgitate them pepul an' put 'em dere ; 
learn 'em to read one part of de time an' learn 'em to 
work de udder part ob de time.' 

" At this moment a member in the audience arose 
and left, greatly to the disturbance of the lady, who 
could with difficulty make herself heard. 

"'I'll hole on a while,' she said. ' Whoever is 
agoin' let him go. When you tell about work here, 
den you have to scud. [Laughter and applause.] I 
tell you I can't read a book, but I can read de people. 
[Applause.] I speak dese tings so dat when you 
have a paper come for you to sign, you ken sign it.' 

"This was the last speech, and the services of the 
eighth anniversary concluded at half-past nine o'clock 
with the pronouncing of the benediction by Rev. Mr. 
Haven, a general hand-shaking and congratulating on 
the platform, and a discussion with Sojourner Truth, 
whom her questioners found as apt and keen at rep- 
artee as she had proved herself to be while in attend- 
ance upon the Woman's Bazar last week." — Boston 
Post. 

For many years she has been blessed with the 
friendship and sympathy of the widely known and 
justly revered Rev. Gilbert Haven, whom she met dur- 
ing her last visit in Boston. At this time he made 
her a present of Z ion's Herald, a paper of extensive 
circulation, to the reading of which she listens with 
great pleasure. 



THE BOSTON I'Al'l.. 1^17 

"Woman's Suffrage Association. This morn 
ing's session of the Woman's Right's Convention v. 
opened at ten o'clock. A ft- r the transaction of Borne 
business, Col. T, W. rligginson, of Newport, was in- 
troduced to the audience, mostly composed <'t' ladi< 
whose number increased us the hour advanced. The 
main obj ict of the Bpeaker was to rally the women of 
our State and induce them to come forward in thede 
fense of their own rights. As one result of female 
eloquence, In- said, Mrs. Lucy Stone had succeeded in 
melting the heart of the chairman of the judiciary 
committee in our general assembly. At the conclu- 
sion of Col. Higginson's address a string of resolu- 
tions was introduced hearing or. the question of Wom- 
an's Suffrage. Sojourner Truth, who was sitting on 
the platform, was invited to speak, and made one of 
In r characfr ristic addn . favoring a grunt of land 
to the freedmen of Washington, and bucIi a provision 

"[' educational privileges as will tend to the elevation 
of this unfortunate cku 

"The great speech of the morning was made by 
.Mrs. Livermore, of Boston, wh< ment of fa< 

was better than any labored argument. Eler account 
of tin 1 restricted ■.' suffrage in E£am ighly 

interesting and Lostrui fcive, The women in that State 
air allowed to vote in matters pertaining to public 

looIs, and they use their privileges for the j»i d 
tion of good (duration, ami really out wit the men in 
carrying their points. In the territory of Wyomii 
where female suffrage is .red, the women hai 
joined en mass in favor of temperance and moralil 
defeating the vile den who sti"ove for offi< 

and oh cting person icter and pi incipli 

are a guaranty of public order and security." 



218 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

Another journal speaks of Sojourner Truth's pres- 
ence at this meeting thus : — 

" Mrs. Paulina W. Davis said they had a venera- 
ble lady on the platform who commenced her life 
a slave, was forty years in that condition, and since 
that time had labored for the emancipation of her 
race. 

" Sojourner Truth, who seems to carry her weight 
of years very heartily, said she was somewhat plea&ed 
to come before them to bear testimony, although she 
had a limited time — only a few minutes — but as many 
friends wanted to hear Sojourner's voice, she thought 
she would accept the offer. She spoke when the spirit 
moved her — not when the people moved her, but when 
the spirit moved her — for when she was limited 
to a few minutes, the people moved her. She was in 
the woman movement, for she was a woman herself. 
The Friend said that woman ought to have her rights 
for her own benefit, she ought to have them, not only 
for her own benefit, but for the benefit of the whole 
creation, not only the women, but all the men on the 
face of the earth, for they were the mothers of them. 
Therefore she ought to have her God-given right, and 
be the equal of men, for she was the resurrection of 
them. There was another question which lay near 
her heart, and that was the condition of the poor col- 
ored people around Washington, remnants of the slav- 
ery which was ended by the war. Sojourner ear- 
nestly urged that land be given to these poor people 
in order that they might be made self-supporting, and 
concluded her remarks by saying, in her naive way, 
that she would stop before she was stopped." 



Ill l : BOSTON PAPERS. 219 

'•Tin: \\ii:i;k w Sibyl. Sojourner Truth, whom 
M ra Stowe has honored with the title of 'The Am. r 
ican Sibyl,' is Bpending a few days In our city, and we 
hope pur citizens will have the pleasure of listening to 
her graphic descriptions of the condition of the Creed- 
men of the city of Washington, where she spent tin 
years during the war in nursing and teaching the 
poor soldiers and the emancipated people who followed 
the army, she lias been there again recently, endeai or- 
Login her zeal and goodness of heart to help the aged 
colored people to find comfortable homes in some rural 
district. She has spoken in nearly all the cities, and 
has just come from Fall River, where she Bpoke in 
two of the churches to large and enthusiastic audi- 
ences, who listened with delight to the words of wit 
and wisdom which fell from the lips of the ancient 
colored philosopher. She was, as is well known, a 
slave in New York the first forty years of her lite, 
and since her emancipation and remarkable conversion 
to Christianity, she has labored unceasingly for the 
good of her race and for oppressed humanity every- 
where;' 1 

11 Personal. — 'Sister Sojourner Truth' was in town 
iterday and visited the Woman Suffrage Bazaar, 
where she could not resist the movings of the spirit to 
Bay a few words upon her 'great mission,' which now 
is to 'stir up the United states to give the colored 
people about Washington, and who are largely sup- 
ported by charity, a tract of land down South, win n 
they can support themselves.' she don't believe in 
keeping them paupers, and thinks they have earned 
land enough for white people in past days to he enti- 



220 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

tied to a small farm apiece themselves. She says she 
is going to accomplish her mission in this respect be- 
fore she dies, and she wants an opportunity to address 
the people of Boston and to get up petitions to Con- 
gress in its favor. She means to ' send tons of paper 
down to Washington for them spouters to chaw on.' 
Sojourner believes in women's voting, and thinks the 
men are very pretentious in denying them the right. 
Still she thinks there has been a great change for the 
better in this respect the last few years. She is rather 
severe on the sterner sex, and asks, by way of capping 
her argument in favor of her sex : ' Did Jesus ever 
say anything against women 1 Not a word. But he 
did speak awful hard things against the men. You 
know what they were. And he knew them to be true. 
But he didn't say nothing 'gainst de women.' And 
solacing herself with this reflection the old heroine re- 
tired to admire the beautiful bouquets in the flower 
department of the Fair." 

"Sojourner Truth, now in her eighty- third year, gave 
a thrilling address at the Fair — in the Phillips' Stieel 
Church (Rev. Mr. Grime's) on Monday evening. It 
was unique, witty, pathetic, sensible; and, aged as 
she is, was delivered with a voice that, in volume and 
tone, was equally remarkable and striking. 

" Rev. Norwood Damon succeeded her in a speech 
of great eloquence and power. The subject was the 
dependent condition and the hinderances to education 
of the blacks in Washington and the South, and the 
duty of the government to open avenues and furnish 
inducements to a better civilization and manhood. 
The venerable Sojourner will renew the subject at a 



TITE M :\\ fORK PAPERS. 221 

public meeting in Rev. Mr. Grime's church this even 



ing." 



"The first forty years of her life were speni in slat 
ery in the state of New York. Sin- became free w ben 
slavery was abolished in that State, and has devoted 
the remainder of her life to the cause of the freedom 
of her race. She is now at this advanced age engaged 
in a mission for their welfare. She wants the eov- 
eminent, instead of feeding tin m as now, to put them 
on land of their own, as it does the Indians, and teach 
them to vork for themselves. Unless this be done, 
she thinks the jails and penitentiaries will have to be 
increased. It is the only way to prevent a lai 
amount of misery, degradation and crime in the pres- 
ent and future generations. She carries with her 
three small hooks in which she has inscribed the auto- 
graphs of nearly all the eminent people in America. 
This she proposes sometime to have printed in fac 
similes. She calls them the - Book of Life." 

FROM X. Y. AND PHILADELPHIA PAPERS. 

" Sojourner Truth.- Sojourner Truth was horn a 
slave in the family of Colonel Hardenburgh, near 
Swatakill, in Ulster County, Xew York, and sold 
away from her family when about ten years old. She 
remained in Ulster County forty years, a slave, 
and had, during that time, numerous owners. She 
obtained her freedom under the Act of Emancipation 
in the State of New York. After her freedom she 
lived in the city of New York a number of years, and 
in Massachusetts, at Northampton, about twenty 
years. During all this time she traveled through ev- 



222 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

ery section of the country, laboring to promote the 
welfare of her race. She worked without fee or re- 
ward. She then went to Michigan, where she has re- 
sided since that time. She has devoted her life to 
the interest of her suffering race. Daring the war, 
under President Lincoln's administration, she spent 
her time among the freedmen in and around Wash- 
ington, teaching the women how to perform their do- 
mestic duties. She is now over eighty years, and has 
secured a little home at Battle Creek, in Michigan. 
The past summer she purchased a barn, and had it 
converted into a comfortable dwelling-house. It is 
encumbered with a mortgage of nine hundred dollars, 
and to clear this place of debt, she is now on a visit 
to her friends, and proposes to visit President Grant, 
at Washington. Sojourner is remarkably active and 
bright for a person of her age. She has endured much 
hardship, and deserves the aid of her friends." 

— Frank Leslies Illustrated Paper. 

" Sojourner Truth. — This remarkable colored lady 
addressed rather a small audience in the Methodist 
Church on Tuesday evening. It was small because it 
had not been sufficiently advertised ; hence, compara- 
tively few knew of her presence. Sojourner is a per- 
fect type of her race, uneducated, but possessed of 
strong common sense. She was a slave forty years of 
her life, and when liberated, and an. attempt was 
made to educate her, she declares she could never get 
beyond her a, b, abs. She is now eighty-three years 
old, and has been a public speaker for a great many 
many years. She spoke in Phcenixville some twenty 
years ago, in the old M. E. Church, and has ever since 



Till: PHILADELPHIA PAPERS. 22.1 

been anxious to do so again. In her address thai 
evening she stated that she had in her wanderings in 
quired uow and then concerning her friend Elijah F. 
Pennypacker, because ahe knew so long as he lived 
Bhe would it' ahe visited this section have a place 

Wherever she COUld 'put the sole of her foot.' She 

spoke in high terms of the Methodist people of West 
Chester, and especially of their minister, the Rev. .Mr. 

Best, and said he wasn't like the majority of preach 
ers, who wasn't in their element unless they were 
• spouting,' but lie was satisfied to sit at her feet and 
to learn the truth as she knew it. Sojourner was in 
tin' anti-slavery movement in its palmiest days, and 
was associated with the shining lights of that Btrusrele. 
and now that the wildest dreams of those she consid- 
ered enthusiastic have been abundantly realized, she 
has turned her attention to the amelioration of her 
race, and considers her mission to be the establish- 
ment of a home for old and feeble colored people in 
the far \\ est, for which purpose she is endeavoring to 
arouse public sentiment and to interest the govern- 
ment. 

"On Thursday afternoon she addressed the ladies 
of the neighborhood in the Friends' met ting house, at 
the corner stores." 

11 Sojourner Truth. Earnest, self-sacrificing devo- 
tion to principle, especially when its scope is to bene- 
fit humanity, is always an object of the deepest inter- 
est, whatever the race, color or condition of the indi- 
vidual exemplifying it. This fact explains why a 
large and highly respectable audience assembled last 
night in the Friends' Meeting House, on Lombard 



224 "BOOK OF LIFE, 



55 



Street, and listened with the deepest attention to the 
utterances of an old colored woman, who was a slave 
for forty years. That old colored woman was so ear- 
nest, so fearless and untiring a laborer for her race 
during the long contest between freedom and slavery 
that she is known and loved by thousands in every 
State in the Union. Very black, and without much 
education, she has remarkable faith in God, wonder- 
fully clear perceptions of moral right and wrong, the 
most devoted love for the poor and needy, and the 
most untiring determination to carry forward plans 
for the amelioration of the condition of her race. 

" She last night gave startling pictures of the deg- 
radation and suffering among the colored people at 
Washington and elsewhere ; showed that it would 
pay the nation to transform those paupers into indus- 
trious, moral citizens, and concluded by detailing her 
plan for doing that work, and stating the objections 
made to it. She stated that she desired to hold a 
number of meetings here to induce the colored people 
who are in better circumstances to do something to 
further the best interests of the unfortunate of their 
race. 

" When she had concluded, Mr. John Needles stated 
that the old lady paid her expenses in her present 
work by selling her photograph, whereupon a number 
of persons went forward and bought copies. 

"Sojourner Truth jocularly denies that she ever 
nursed General Washington, but she says she ' has 
done quit ' telling people how old she is. ' Sometimes 
folks just quit growing and stop as they is, and I 
specs that I has jis quit growing old and keeps on de 
same all de time.' This is Sojourner's explanation of 
her remarkable longevity." 



THE R0( UES'J EH PAPE11S 225 

\ Pennsj Ivania paper thus mentions another of her 

meetings : — 

u < Mil Sojourner Truth was here last Thursday night 
ami preaohod a good Bermon in the Methodist Church. 
A tremendous crowd assembled to hear and Bee her, 
and were all pleased with Ikt address and the manni i 

in which it was delii ere 1." 



BOM BO*. Ul STEJi PA TEES. 

"A Lecture by Sojourneb Truth. This aged 
negress lectured in Rochester, N. Y., recently, and 
the Democrat and Chronicle gives this account of her 
effort : — - 

"' Her appearance reminds one vividly of Dinah 
in " Uncle Tom's Cabin." A white handkerchief was 
tied closely about her head and she wore spectacle 
but this was the only indication of her extreme age. 
Her voice is Btrong, has no touch of shrillness, and 
she walked about as hale and hearty as a person of 
half her years. She sajjd her object was to arouse at 
tention to the wants of the freedmen. Their condition 
at Washington was pitiful No work could be found 
for tie :n. and their children were growing up in igno 
ranee. She described the treatment they had received 
during the war. even after they were freed. "Th< 
poor creeters were heaped together" with no food but 
a ration of bread. Children were taken away from 
their mothers, and when the latter complained, th< 
were thrusl into the guard-house. She went among 
them, and when she told them they wire lie., ll 
1:1 not understand her. After drawings \i\id |>e 

<■ 



226 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

ture of the sufferings of the freedmen and their un- 
fortunate condition, even at the present time, she said : 
" You ask me what to do for dem 1 Do you want a 
poor old creeter who do' no how to read to tell edc- 
cated people what to do] I give you de hint, and 
you ought to know what to do. But if you do n't, I 
kin tell you. De government hab given land to de 
railroads in de West ; can't it do as much for these 
poor creeters ? Let 'em give 'em land and an outset, 
and hab teachers learn 'em to read. Den they can be 
somebody. Dat's what I want. You owe it to den), 
because you took away from dem all dey earned and 
made 'em what they are. You take no interest in de 
colored people. I was forty years a slave in de State 
of New York, and was 'mancipatcd 'long wid de odder 
culered people of the State. 

" ' You are de cause of de brutality of these poor 
creeters. For you're de children of those who enslaved 
dem. Dat's what I want to say. I wish dis hall was 
full to hare me. I do n't want to say anything agin 
Anna Dickinsin because she is my friend, but if she 
come to talk here about a woman you know nothing 
about, and no one knows whether there was such a 
woman* or not, you would fill dis place. You want 
to hear nonsense. I come to tell something which 
you ought to listen to. You are ready to help de 
heathen in foreign lands, but don't care for the hea- 
then right about you. I want you to sign petitions 
to send to Washington. Dey say there dey will do 
what de people want. The majority rules. If dey 
want anything good dey git it. If dey want anything 
not right dey git it too. You send these petitions, and 



Miss Dickinson's lecture upon'Joan of Arc. 



Ill I : ROCHESTEB PAPERS. 227 

those men in Congress will have something to Bpoui 
about. I bin to hear 'em ; could make nothing oui 
of wlut dey said, but ii' dej talk about «!«• colored rx o 
pie I will know what dey Bay. Send a rood man wid 
do petitions, one dat will not turn d<- other Bide ou< 
when he gita to Washington, Lot do freedmen be 
emptied out in de West ; gib 'em land an' an outsol , 
teach 'em to road, an' don dey will be Bomebody. 

I >at's wat I want to say.* " 

•• Sojourneb Truth. Lei no one fan 1 to hear the 
lecture of this remarkable woman in Corinthian Hall, 
on Thursday ovening of tliis week. I lor Bubject is Lbe 
condition of tin; freed colored people dependent on th< 
government. Having spent several years among tin m, 
she knows whereof she speaks. She was for fort 
years a slave in the State of New York. Wholly un 
educated, her eloquence is that of nature, inspired I 
earnest zeal in her Heaven-appointed mission. Sh< 
speaks t<> crowded houses every where j let Hod 
give her a cordial reception." 

"So, lneb Truth. The lecture of this u mai I 

ble colored woman comes off at Corinthian Hall, on 
Thursday evening, 1th inst. The lecturer is a child 
of nature, gifted beyond the common measure, win 
Bhrewd, sarcastic, with an open, broad honesty of 
heart, and unbounded kindness. 

•• Wholly untaught in the schools, she i.-, hei 

ids l*.i- the philosophers, and a wonder to all. I! 
natural powers of observation, discrimination, compai 

n, and intuition are rare indeed, and only equaled 
by her straightforward common ei e and (.un. 
practical benevolence. Sheisalwa ensible, alwaj 



228 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

suggestive, always original, earnest, and practical, 
often eloquent and profound. Her lecture will be in 
behalf of her people, and whoever would be edified, 
entertained, and even amused, without frivolity, 
would do well to be present." 

"Sojourner Truth. — This celebrated colored 
woman spoke at Lyceum Hall, Sunday evening, to an 
audience of several hundred people. Her subject was 
her own experience, more particularly her religious 
experience. She is now about eighty- three years old, 
though she looks much younger. She is unable to 
read or write, and in her manner and style is per- 
fectly natural and original. She acts and speaks with 
the simplicity and innocence of a child, and seems to 
have nothing to conceal. Her motives she speaks 
out without hesitation. Her religious experience was 
very beautiful, and was told in a style that defies im- 
itation. To be appreciated it must be heard, for no- 
body can repeat it. Her religion is of an exceedingly 
practical character, and consists in doing good to oth- 
ers. ' How can you expect to do good to God,' she 
asked, ' unless you first learn to do good to each other ' ? 
In regard to God, she says she feels that he is all 
around her ; that we live in him as the fishes live in 
the sea. 

" Speaking of death, she compared it — her counte- 
nance fairly lighting up with emotion — to stepping out 
of one room into another, stepping out into the light. 
' Oh,' said she, ' won't that be glorious ! ' 



L SYRACUSE PAPER, 



'" 30.TO1 i:\li; I i;i i ll fALKfl fO l. viu i 






Sojourner spoke to n company of ladies al Asso- 
ciation Hall, «-n Wednesday afternoon, She por 
trayed in forcible language the vice and degradation 
in which the war lias [eft the poor blacks, [gnorani 
and debased, they cannot 1»«> made to understand thai 
they are responsible human beings, bul continue the 
debased practices that marked their Blave life. She 
endeavored to enlist the sympathies of her hearers in 
behalf of the black women <>l" the South, and related 
many incidents connected with her (Hints to find 
homes i'«>r them in the West. She had succeeded in 
pro\ Lding for a hundred in this manner. At the con 
elusion of her address the ladies present took So 
journer bj the hand and gave hn pecuniary aid 
w ril as w ords of encouragement.' 1 

FRO it A SYRACUSE P i /'//.' 

II l:\i.l: l l;i III 

"To the Editor of the Syra mrnal :-- 

• It affords me great pleasure to announce to the 
Christian people of Syracuse that Sojourner Truth i 
in this city,, and will address the people upon the 
'Condition of the South,' tomorrow (Friday) even 
ing, at 7 J. o'olock, 

"This remarkable woman at thi ■■< eighty yeai 
is as eloquent as ever, and all who desire to see and 
hear her should take this opportunity, which will 
probably be the last one afforded in this cil 

"The officers and pastor of the Fourth Presbyl 



230 "BOOK OF LTFE." 

rian Church have kindly proffered their fine audience 
room, which is so central that it will doubtless he 
filled very early in the evening. 

" Sojourner Truth is too well known to need any 
endorsements, but I was greatly pleased yesterday to 
read that of the martyr president- — so characteristic 
of Lincoln — ' For Aunty.' 

" Sojourner Truth — let the Christian people hear 
her. Yours, truly, a. f. b." 

FEOM BATTLE CREEK rAEEER. 

" First of August. — The colored people of Battle 
Creek and vicinity will observe the 39th anniversary 
of the emancipation of the slaves of the British West 
Indies by a picnic at St. Mary's Lake, interspersed 
with boat riding, 'swinging in the lane,' <kc. W. 
Sweeney has been invited to deliver the oration of the 
day, followed by ' Aunt Sojourner Truth ' and others. 
The festivities of the day will be concluded by a grand 
Grant and Wilson club ball, at Stuart Hall, under 
the immediate supervision of the officers of the club. 
C Long is the chairman of the committee of arrange- 
ments. 

" Sojourner Truth asserts that if ever the Augean 
stables of our political temple are to ]je cleared, it 
must be done by woman, and that it never will be 
clean until she is admitted to full fellowship therein. 

" This well-known and venerable old lady called to 
see us Thursday afternoon and to subscribe for the 
Journal. She leaves for Ohio in a few days to lec- 
ture upon her favorite topic, that of providing a home 
for the colored people in and about Washington by 



! 



i hi: BATTLE PREEK PAPE1 

granting them a trad of land in the West. Sojournei 

has been Btumping for Grant, and Bays that if Buch a 

occurrence as the election of Oreolej Bhould 

happen, she will remove to Canada," fiatth Creek, 

J mi nml. 

" REPUD1 [CAN MEETING rOl i \ I I: I 1:1 I II. 

" < Mi Tuesday evening, Sojourner Truth addn 
the people of Hillsdale upon political topics at the 
court-house, The attendance was immense, do! half 
the throng were able to get Beats, and hundreds went 
away without even gaining admittance. The old lady 
was somewhat t scattering' in her remarks but she 
kept firing away, and occasionally a winged duck went 
out of the crowd, shrieking. The principal points 
touched were the Blanders against President Grant, 
the inconsistent relations assumed by Greeley, Sum 
ner, Blair, and others, and the duties of the colored 
voters. The audience, in the best humor, applauded 
and cheered the speaker. 

"Sojourner Truth, on the Saturday before the re 
(•♦■lit election, appeared before the Board of Registra 
tion, in the third ward where Bhe resides, and claimed 
the right to have her name entered upon the list of 
electors. Upon being refused, Bhe repaired to the 
nulls on election day in the same ward and again 
erted her right to the ballot She was politelj re- 
ceived by the authorities in both instances, but did 
not Bucceed in her effort, though she sustained her 
claim by many original and quaintly put arguments. 
Sojourner Btates that she learned one thing bj her 
visit to the polls on the 5th inst she verily thought 



232 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

before that day that a literal pole was erected to des- 
ignate the voting place, and she asked the bystanders 
to point it out. Her astonishment on being unde- 
ceived, as described to us by her own lips and in her 
characteristic style, is peculiarly amusing. It is So- 
journer's determination to continue the assertion of 
her right, until she gains it."— Battle Creel: Journal. 

FROM DETROIT rArERS. 

m 

" SOJOURNER TRUTH. 

"i veteran worker — her f mission' — the colored paupers 
about Washington and what to do with them. 

" For several days past, Sojourner Truth — the ' Lib- 
yan Sibyl,' as Mrs. Stowe has aptly termed her—has 
been the guest of Mrs. Nanette B. Gardner, on How- 
ard Street, where many friends, and strangers as well, 
have called to see and converse with this veteran 
worker in the cause of her own race. Already past 
fourscore years and ten, she yet maintains a constitu- 
tion and mind unimpaired, and has an amount of vigor 
that betokens a 'green old age' indeed. Those who 
have before heard her lectures, will doubtless remem- 
ber well the strong, and yet well-modulated \oice, and 
the characteristic expressions in which she delivers 
her addresses, as well as the pith and point of her 
spicy sentences. 

"To all calling upon her, she asks the question, 
£ Don't you want to write your name in de Book 
of Life 1 ' to which query, the counter one in relation 
to the same ' Book of Life,' is generally put, and So- 
journer is usually gratified by the chirography of 



THE DKTROn i'.\ I'll: 

her visitor, in Bomo manner, according to the plea 
are of the write!-. The booh in question contain 
>res on Bcores of names, of different individuals 
throughout the country, including many persons of 

note, senators, authors, politicians, etc Foremosl in 
tin' list is Lucretia Mott's, who Bigns herself a ' 
laborer in the cause of our race.' Also thai of Sena 
tor [level, of Mississippi, of Senators Morrill, Pome 
rov, Henry Wilson, of Massachusetts, Patterson, of 
New Hampshire, and numerous others. 

"Among the first and most treasured is thai of the 
late President Lincoln, who has inscribed in Ins bur 
ried style, ' For Aunty Sojourner Truth. A. Line*. In, 
October 29, 1864.' From President Grant, who, slip 
declares, ' was in a most drefful hurry to put down hi i 
name,' on being asked to write in the ' Book of Life ;' 
written in his hurried manner, are the lines, 'So 
journer Truth. I . S. Grant, March 31, L870.' There 
are letters from Gerritt Smith, Win. Lloyd Garrison, 
et id genus omne, and also a few lines each from V ice 
President < lolfax, Theodore Tilton, .Mrs. Elizabeth 
Tilton, and many others. Sojourner has 'views' as 
well as others, and does not hesitate to promulgate 
them. She is in most respects radical, and believes in 
the temperance movement, woman suffrage, and b 
no faith whatever in the 'New Departure' move 
ment, as announced of late in the main plank in th< 
Democratic platform. The constant and repeated in 
quiry made by visitors, as to her age, she considers 
BOmewhat trying, as it is what she has done and IS to 
do, that she considers of the most importance. In 
connection with this, si"- mentions thai when in 



234 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

Brooklyn last spring Theodore Tilton called upon her, 
and in the course of conversation proposed that he 
should write her life, a proposition which did not 
meet her views, and which she did not accordingly 
aocept, but replied in effect that she expected to live 
a long time yet, and was going to accomplish ' lots ' 
before she died, ami did n't wan't to be ' written up ' 
at present. 

" Sojourner calls Battle Creek her home, but as she 
is constantly on the move, she visits that place but 
seldom. Her great object, she says, in visiting this 
city and others, is to ' stir up ' the people and interest 
them in her long-desired object of procuring a home 
for the aged and infirm — particularly colored people— 
who are now in and around Washington, and wholly 
dependent upon the goverment for support. 

" Sojourner is to remain a short time only in De- 
troit, going from here westward on the same mission 
which induced her to come here. In the course of 
her travels she intends visiting Kansas, in order to 
prospect the land." 

" About a year ago, Sojourner commenced her lect- 
ures in behalf of this object, in Providence, since 
which time she has lectured in many towns and cities 
throughout the country. Concerning this, she says 
that not much encouragement is given her, except the 
const-ant adjuration to talk to the people, and ' stir 
'em up,' and adds, ' why don't you stir 'em up 1 as 
tho' an old body like myself could do all the stirring.' 

" In relation to the subject, she states that there are 
hundreds of colored people in the city of Washington, 
who, from being cared for, and clothed, and fed by the 



THE DETR01 I' PAPER 

government, have become apathetic and indifferent, 
and all Lhoj care for is to lead the hum-drum, hand 
bo-mouth existence thai calls for no action on then 
part. Hundreds of children are brought up in a Bliifl 
less manner, and, believing that the government will 
provide for them, they help swell the constantly in 
creasing number of paupers. Without friends or 
homes, they are Bent t<> Bome of the numerous 
linns iii Washington which arc proi ided for them, and 
thus manage to exist, but have m> thought or care 
us to li«>w they arc to do hereafter. When urged to 
i North, away from Washington, the invariable re 
ply, at least of nearly all of the able-bodied men in 
particular is. k What fo' I go way I gubernment feed 
me. gib me close, E's doin' well enuff,'and bo saj thej 

nil, or at least a great part of them. 

"That a new order of tilings may be established, 
Sojourner proposes to excite such an interest as shall 
not fail in the end to accomplish her purpose. 

" As showing what a large number arc fed at gov 
eminent expense during tin' winter, at least when 
there is little or do work, she states that last Beason 
there were from 600 to 7"<> loaves of bread given daily 
in each ward, t<> the colored people, who had in man) 

cases only this to depend upon lor sustenance. The 
following extract from a letter written by Mrs. < '. A. 
P. Stebbins, to the editor of the National Standard^ 

shows the condition of things then existing, and 

which is no better at the commencement of each 
winter, and, as Sojourner claims, is even growi 
worse : 



236 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

" To the Editor of the National Standard : — 
" ' There could be no wider possible gulf between 
Dives and Lazarus, in the day when the impover- 
ished and despised craved the crumbs which fell from 
the rich man's table, than here this very day in the 
court center of the republic, where women are starv- 
ing for bread, while after all the regular nourishing 
meals of the day, evening tables are heaped high with 
luxuries from every clime, and hundreds are invited 
to share, but they are the hundreds who have plenty 
upon their own boards at home 

" ' I am thankful, dear Standard, that I do not be- 
lieve the Dives of Washington city will ever go to the 
burning gulf as did Dives in the parable ; or that they 
will ever lack for a kind and tender hand to administer 
the cup of cold water in the future world j but I can- 
not say, in the turning and constant revolutions of the 
wheel, that I believe all will be so fortunate in this, 
for experience in the valley of humility saves, no doubt, 
some bitter regret, and necessitates reflections on 
wasted opportunities which may lead to the realiza- 
tion that all are brothers, and human wants are ever 
the same.' 

" Sojourner proposes to solicit government aid, in 
the way of having some portion of the as yet unoccu- 
pied lands of the West donated for the purpose as set 
forth in the petition first mentioned, and there to 
have suitable buildings erected, and schools estab- 
lished where the now dependent thousands of colored 
people may go, and not only attain an independence 
for themselves, but become educated and respectable 
citizens, instead of the ' trash '— as she denominates 



i 111. DEI R01 i r\ru;s. 237 

the humbug idlers in Washington which their de 
pendenoe on government aid and bounty renders them. 
"Sojourner intends remaining in Detroit several 
days Longer, during which time, it' a haU or Buitable 

1'l.e an be provided, she will give a Lecture «>n the 

Bubject described, and will doubtless attract even more 
than on the occasion of her last appearance in Detroit, 
in '68." — Detroit Post. 

lUBNE] i ll. 

"This remarkable woman, born a slave in the State 

of New York more than eighty years ago, and eman- 
cipated in L827, will speak in the lecture room of the 
Unitarian Church, corner of Shelby Street and I 
fayette Avenue, on Monday evening, to any who 
will choose to hear her. Her lecture will he highly 
entertaining and impressive. She is a woman of 
strong religious nature, with an entirely original elo 
quence and humor, possessed "i* a weird imagination, 
(A' most grotesque but strong, clear mir h and one who, 
without the aid of reading or writing brangelj sus- 
ceptible to all that in thought and action is now cur- 
rent in the world. At the antislavery and women 
rights meetings she has been one of the chief attri- 
tions, and her shrewd good sense mixed with odditit 
of speech and whimsical illustrations, never fail ot 
producing a sympathetic interest as well as excitil 

the curiosity of the audience. Her life lias been one 
of extreme vicissitudes, and a great portion of it full 
of hardship. She has been a true and eloquent friend 
ot her race, and a practical and efficient counselor and 
sistant in their moral and religious training. Jl 



238 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

work in the freedmen's camps at Washington and in 
Virginia, during the war, was very valuable and much 
esteemed. She was a staunch friend of Mr. Lincoln, 
and he gave her many words of encouragement and 
praise. We advise our friends to attend her ' lecture,' 
at the Unitarian Church, if they desire to bo in- 
structed, amused, and gratified by one of the most 
original, if, indeed, not one of the most marvelous, 
persons of the time. All she does and says is, as she 
believes, inspired by the Almighty, and she connects 
with his direct agency the events and circumstances 
which surround and control her. She now resides at 
Battle Creek, Michigan." — Detroit Post. 

In a notice of the lecture the Post said :— 
u Sojourner mentioned that the Rev. Gilbert Ha- 
ven, of Boston, had volunteered to tako charge of all 
the petitions signed and forward them to Congress in 
due form, that they might be presented before Con- 
gress in such a way as to demand both attention and 
action. She hoped to find some one, among those as- 
sembled to hear her lecture, who would also aid her 
in this respect. The Rev. Charles Foote, chaplain of 
the House of Correction, thereupon offered to collect 
and forward all petitions which should be signed, to 
Washington, which offer was thankfully accepted by 
the lecturer. 

" After the lecture several of those interested went 
upon the platform and interviewed Sojourner, to all 
of whom she gave a cordial welcome, and conversed in 
her characteristic style." 



THE NEW FORK TRIB1 \i 



FROM llli: .v. )'. TRIBUNE. 

" 80, n II: Till Til AT WOEK, 

"To tii.' Editor <>r the Tribune : — 
"Sir: Seeing an Item in your paper about me, I 
thought I would give you the particulars ofwhal I 
;tm trying to do, in hopes that you would print :i lei 
ber about it and so help on the good cause. 1 am m 
ing the people t<> sign petitions to Congress to have a 
grani o[' land set apart for the freed people to earn 
their living on, and not be dependent on the gov- 
ernment for their bread. I have had fifty petitions 
printed at my own expense, and have been urging the 
people of the Eastern States for the past seven months. 
1 have been crying out in the East, and now an an 
swer comes to me from the West, as von will see from 
the following letter. The gentleman who writes it I 
have never seen <>r heard of before, but the Lord has 
raised him up to help me. Bless the I ord ! I made 
np my mind last winter, when I saw able men and 
women taking dry bread from the government to keep 
from starving, that I would devote myself to the cau • 
of getting land for these people, when' they can work 
and earn their own living in the West, where the land 
is so plenty. Instead of going home from Washirj 
ton to take rest, I am traveling around getting it b< 
fore the people. 

"Instead of sending these people to Liberia, v. 
can't they have a colony in the Wesi This is why 
I am contending so in my old age. It is to teach the 
people that this colony can just as well be in this 



240 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

country as in Liberia. Everybody says this is a good 
work, but nobody helps. How glad I will be if you 
will take hold and give it a good lift. Please help me 
with these petitions. Yours truly, 

" Sojourner Truth. 
"Florence, Mass., Feb. 18, 1871. 

" P. S. I should have said that the Rev. Gilbert 
Haven of Boston is kindly aiding me in getting peti- 
tions signed, and will receive all petitions signed in 
Massachusetts and send them to Congress. s. T." 

"Topeka, Kansas, Dec. 81, 1870. 
" Sojourner Truth. — Dear Madam : I know so 
much of you by reputation, and venerate and love so 
much your character, that I am induced to write this. 
I say I know so much of you, which is true, but it is 
only by report, as I have never had the pleasure of 
meeting you yet. My object in writing this is to ask 
and earnestly request that you make our town a visit. 
I would very much like to have you come to my house 
and make it your home as long as you can be con- 
tented. If you will say you will come, I will send 
you the price of your railroad fare and enough to pay 
additional expenses. Please let me hear from you, 
and, if possible, convey the good intelligence that you 
will come and see us. Yours, very respectfully, 

"B. M. S." 



a 



SOJOURNER TRUTH IN SPRINGFIELD. 



"Those who remember Mrs. S to we's graphic sketch 
of ' Sojourner Truth, the Libyan SibylJ in the Allan- 
tic some years ago, will be interested to see and hear 



ill! Nl V\ \mi;K I K I l.l M . L» | I 

her. Sho i; n«.u visiting a1 Dr. Church's on Elm 
Street, for a ft w days, and will address an audienco al 
rnstitutc ETall, to-night, on her ohosen Bubject, tho 

ifferings <>f the old colored people and children In 
Washington, and hou to relieve them. She is one of 
I he most 01 iginal and < Scctive speakers, though an un- 
lettered woman, and all her early life a slave in New 
"^ ork. She i* now between Beventy and eighty years 
old, and has outlived many of her thirteen children. 
'"it her eye is not dim nor her natural force abated in 
proportion to her years, and her deep, powerful voice 
has the Bame effect us formerly in moving an audience. 
She says, however, that this is the last time Bhe shall 

iak in Massachusetts ; Bhe is now on her way to a 
friend of hers and her cause in Kansas, and at her see 
she never expects to return here Her object in hold- 
ing meetings is, uot to raise money, but to stir up the 
people to petition Congress to Bhow humanity to the 
old and helpless bf her race. She has Bpent much 
time in Washington, and knows by observation the 
misery of the colored people there, and Bhe wants 
Congress to provide attract of land for them in some 
Western State and remove them to it, where they can 
live frugally and support themselves, instead of d< 
pending upon charity at Washington. We hop.' our 
citizens will avail themselves of this opportunity I 
and hear <»ne of the most remarkable women of our 
time a true sibyl, as Mrs. Stowe calls her, but a I Ihris- 
tian sibyl, and more devoted to good words and works 
than to obscure predictions. Her book of autographs 
contains those of Abraham Lincoln, Gen, Grant, Mr. 

H 



242 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

Garrison, and a great many other eminent men and 
women, living or dead, and is a curious memento of 
her life." 



"sojourner truth's lecture 



" At Franklin Hall, last evening, was in the main 
an exhortation to all interested in the elevation of the 
blacks to petition the authorities at Washington for 
land ont West whereon to locate the surplus freedmen, 
and let them earn their own living, which she argued 
would be cheaper and better for the government than 
to care for them in any other way. Her matter and 
manner were simply indescribable, often straying far 
away from the starting point ; but each digression was 
fraught with telling logic, rough humor, or effective 
sarcasm. She thought she had a work to do, and had 
considerable faith in what she was accomplishing ; but 
she said to her audience, ' With all your opportunities 
for readin' and writin,' you do n't take hold and do 
anything. My God, I wonder what you are in the 
world for !' She had infinite faith in the influence 
which the majority had with Congress and believed 
that whatever they demanded, good or bad, Congress 
wouM grant ; hence she was working to make majori- 
ties. She leaves the East soon never to return, and 
goes to Kansas where the Lord had plainly called her 
by prompting a man whom she had never seen or 
heard of to invite her and pay her expenses. Her 
enthusiasm over the prospect was unbounded, and she 
said that, like the New Jerusalem, if she didn't find 
the West all she had expected, she would have a good 
time thinking about it. A good deal of sound ortho- 









i HE m:w vmi;k timci [ 243 

d..\ theology was mingled with her discourse, as well 
as a description of her visit, to the White House, and 
the reformation Bhe effected in the Washington hoi 
car system. The whole was followed by a valedictory 
Bong in true plantation Btyle. A large and interested 
audience was present (<> get the benefit of her re 
marks." 

"Her views on the question of woman's dress and 
the prevailing fashions arc interesting. They arc sub- 
stantially these : ' I'm awful hard on dress, yon know. 
Women, yon forget that yon arc the mothers of en a 

lion ; yon forget your sons were cut off like grass by 
the war, and the land was covered with their blood ; 
you rig yourselves up in panniers and Grecian-bend 
backs and iiummeries; yes, and mothers and gray- 
haired grandmothers wear high-heeled Bhoes and 
humps on their heads, and pnt them on their babl 
and Btuff them out so that they keel over when the 
wind blows. mothers, I'm ashamed of ye ! What 
will such liv.s as you live do for humanity ? When 
I saw them women on the stage at the Woman's Suf- 
frage ( onvention, the other day, I thought, What kind 
of reformers be you, with goose-wings on your heads, 
as if you were going to fly, and dressed in such ridic- 
ulous fashion, talking about reform and worn, i 
rights i 'Pears to me, you had hitter reform your- 
selves first. But Sojourner is an old body, and will 
soon get out of this world into another, and wants to 
say when she gets there, Lord, I have done my duty. 
I have told the whole truth and kept nothing hack." 

In another issue the Tribune says : 



244 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

" Mrs. Sojourner Truth, a venerable colored woman, 
who has been heard before, gave her testimony the 
other day, in Providence, against the flummery and 
folly of ' feminine vestments/ and specially did she 
rebuke the l women on the stage at the Woman's Suf- 
frage Convention.' Hark to her ! 

" ' When I saw them women on the stage at the 
Woman's Suffrage Convention, the other day, I 
thought, What kind of reformers be you, with goose 
wings on your heads, as if you were going to fly, and 
dresses in such ridiculous fashion, talking about re- 
form and women's rights'? 'Pears to me you had bet- 
ter reform yourselves first.' " 

" Just before this, Mrs. Sojourner had freed her 
mind respecting ' panniers and Grecian-bend backs, 
high-heeled shoes, and humps on the head.' We 
should earnestly join in Mrs. Truth's protest against 
the manifold absurdities of woman's clothing, if we 
thought reform possible; but we don't. There has 
been no simplicity of attire since our grandmother 
Eve made her first apron of fig-leaves." 

"the fashions. 

" Sojourner says that 'the women wear two heads on 
their shoulders with but little if any brains in either.' 
She knew of a young woman who had her hair cut 
on account of an impotency in her head and eyes. 
After the hair was cut, she put it into a net and wore 
it for a waterfall — getting rest for the head only dur- 
ing the night. Her hair grew again but still she con- 
tinued to wear the extra hair with the addition of 
several skeins of stocking or other sort of yarn. Her 












I liK KANSAS PAPERS. 2 I 5 

impotenciee ofcoursi ■ w no better 1 very fast P< 
haps there is no truer Baying than that 'folly is a 
fund that will never Lose ground while fools are bo 
rife in the nation.' The trouble <>f the thing is, or 
the reason why we have the trouble is, that* the 
priests arc dumb dogs and dare not bark or bring out 
the truths of the gospel against such gigantic evils, as 
war, slavery f and the prided fashions. We leave So- 
journer Truth with her intuitiveness and without the 

letter, to battle almost alone these world-wide evils. 
May Heaven Mess and sustain her in her humanitarian 

work and ' God-like mission.' SeLAHOMM \ii." 

Accompanied by her grandson, Samuel Banks, she 
left Battle Creek in Sept., 1871, for her western trip 
to Kansas. Frequently stopping by the way to hold 
meetings, they at length reached Kansas, where sh. 
was Cordially received l>y her new friend, Mr. Smith, 
as well as by friends of earlier date, whom she had 
known in Massachusetts and Michigan. Eer stay in 
this State was rendered most agreeable by the atten- 
tions of kind and sympathizing people, who spared no 
pains to make her visit both pleasant and profitable. 
The newspaper reporters did not neglect her, as the 
following extracts will show : — 

FROM KANSAS PAPERS. 

" ' Sojourner Truth ' is the name of a man now \< i 
tilling in Kansas City, He could only be called a 
'sojourner' there, for truth could not abide in thai 
place long as a permanent resident." St. Loui i 
patch. 



246 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

" Considerable ignorance is displayed in the first 
sentence, and an unusual regard for truth in the last." 
—Leavenworth Times, Jan. 18, 1872. 

"Ignorance of the sex of this noted personage, So- 
journer Truth, by the writer of the above, is proof 
of wonderful lack of general information. Certainly, 
knowledge does not sojourn in that head, and truth 
without knowledge has but poor dispatch in the af- 
fairs of men and women." — Kansas City Journal, Jan, 
10, 1872. 

" Sojourner Truth's Talk. — There was a large at- 
tendance at the Opera House last night to listen to 
Sojourner Truth. Her mission, although not very 
intelligently stated by her, is to secure petitions to 
Congress to set apart a portion of the public domain 
for the occupation of such of the blacks as arc still 
living on the bounty of the government in and around 
Washington. Sojourner's plan seems to be to have 
this class of ' contrabands ' dealt with much in the 
same way as arc the various tribes of Indians who 
occupy reservations and are being taught to support 
themselves. 

" As the lecturer announced her intention of speak- 
ing again and again in Topeka, we will not prostate 
her arguments but permit them to be brought out by 
her in her own way. 

"That she is a remarkable woman, all who have 
kept pace with the history of the past thirty years 
know, and being known, her persistent efforts will 
undoubtedly secure thousands of names to her pet pe_ 
tition. 



THE K INSAS PAPERS. 2 17 

"She also gave her views upon temperance, fevoi 
in-; prohibition. As to woman BufFrage Bhe declared 

that the world would never be correctly governed on 
til equal rights wok- declared, and that as men have 
been endeavoring for years to govern alone, and ha i 

not y. t succeeded in perfecting any system, it is about 
time the women should take the matter in hand." 

A Topeka, Kansas, paper says : — 

"Sojoi ftNEB Truth:- The Temperance Society of 
this village have secured this remarkable colored worn 

an to lecture here on Monday evening, Feb. - 1, L872, 
None should tail to hear hoi-. For years she has b< en 
widely known. As the companion and peer of the 
great antislavery Leaders during the dark days of the 
nation's struggle for freedom, Bhe has made for herself 
a national reputation. Born in slavery, with no <>p- 
I' trtunities for improvement save those which come of 
poverty and wretchedness, sho is with her rich imag 
ination and shrewd good sense l»ut what the oppress d 
race might become under circumstances title. I t<« de- 
velop their peculiar gifts. The music which greeted 
her childish ears was the imperious voice of her pre- 
tended master and the crack of the driver's whip ; hut 
it failed to crush out the spirit of eloquence and po- 
etry with which nature had endowed her. Says II 

rict Boecher Stowe concerning her: 'I never knew a 
person who possessed bo much of that subtle, controll- 
ing personal power, called presence, as she.' Wendell 
Phillips says of her that he has known a few >• 
from her to electrify an audience and affect them 
he never saw persons affected h\ another party. 



248 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

" Come and see and hear this peculiar, imaginative, 
yet strong and stalwart, daughter of the tropics. The 
lecture will be given in the Congregational Church, 
and upon the subject of temperance. We hope to see 
a full house." 

She left Kansas in Feb., 1872, and traveled through 
Missouri, Iowa, and Wisconsin, making many friends, 
from whom she received tokens of respect and affec- 
tion. Her " Book of Life," which she always carries 
with her, contains autograph letters from the most 
influential and intelligent people residing in those 
places through which she journeyed. She returned 
to Michigan with scrolls of signatures as trophies of 
success, over which she felt as jubilant as "great 
Csosar bringing captives home to Rome." The time 
was nearing when these petitions might be presented 
in due form to Congress ; accordingly, she left Battle 
Creek in the spring of 1874, and joining her grandson 
in Ohio, proceeded once more toward our national 
capital. They stopped on their way thither in 
Orange, New Jersey, being entertained in the beauti- 
ful home of her much-endeared friends, Rowland John- 
son and wife. There she met the prominent and 
highly gifted preacher, George Truman, with whom 
she held meetings. One meeting is thus noticed by 
one of the New Jersey papers : — ■ 

" GEORGE TRUMAN AND SOJOURNER TRUTH IN ORANGE. 

" The little company of Friends in Orange held a 
very interesting meeting yesterday morning in Asso- 
ciation Hall, where they were addressed by two noted 



mi. I, I [NG A I' ORANGE. 2 k9 

preachers, one a man, the other a woman, the former 
white and the latter colored, These were George 
Truman and Sojourner Truth. The former waa the 
fin I Bpeal r 

'• A t the conclusion of Mr. Truman's address ther< 
was a short interval of silent meditation, after which 
Sojourner Truth, the venerable preacher and mission- 
ary, rose to Bpeak. Eer tall form was Blightly bent 
with a«re, and as she faced her audience, clad in tin 1 
Bimple garb of a Quakeress, she looked like an aged 
Biby] pleading the cause of her people. At first her 
voice was somewhat husky, and a few words were 
iv ly intelligible at the oilier end of the room, but 
as she warmed up with her subject all signs of weal. 
uess disappeared. She said that she felt that she was 
called to her work, and that if wo are inheritors of 
the kingdom of God there must be some work that is 
to be done jby us. That was what she had been try- 
ing to do for twenty or thirty years. When she was 
enlightened by God's love and truth she wanted to 
know, 'Lord, what wilt thou have me to do1 Now 
I want, to go to work-. Well, it came to me in the 
antislavery can I knew slavery was a curse. I 
had been a slave and a chattel, and I went to work 
then. After that there seemed to be a call for me to 
go to work for the poor and outcast, for they are as 

poor as any one on ( rod's foot stool.' She said Bhe had 
tried for years to get the government to help her and 
give the old destitute people, left destitute by the war, 
and the young growing up in wickedness, a home. 
>he spoke of the misery and degradation she had 
■ n among the colored people in the South, of the 



250 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

• 

Black Maria full of them driving up to the Washing- 
ton police court, of their being thrown into jails, and 
of their children growing up in vice and ignorance, 
and said that it was a shame and an abomination, and - 
that the people did not know these things simply be- 
cause they did not see them. She had heard it said 
that these evils would die out in time, but they would 
not die out, ' they must be learned out.' God looks 
down on these things and sees them, and we all ought 
to feel that the world should be better because we are 
in it. She believed in being doers of the word, not 
hearers only, and in doing something to show we are 
workers in the vineyard. She lectured four years on 
this matter, and had got up a petition to Congress 
to set aside a portion of the public lands in the West, 
and put buildings thereon for a home for the destitute. 
Peoplo would sign her petition, but they would say 
that the plan could not be carried out. It was not 
so, it can be carried out. She said she wished the 
women of the place would get up a meeting and give 
her a hearing, as she wanted to tell them things she 
could not tell the men. The A r encrable preacher then 
wandered from sacred to secular matters, stating her 
opinion that the national government needed the ad- 
ministration of women to become cleaner. In conclu- 
sion she spoke of the aid she had received from Gen- 
eral O. O. Howard, and caused her grandson to read 
a letter written by the general favoring the object she 
was working for. 

" Sojourner Truth will uddrcss a woman's meeting 
in Association Hall, on Wednesday afternoon at 3 
o'clock. It is hoped that there will be a large attend- 



' 



ill i i i; OF Gl \i;i;Al, HOWARD. 25 I 

am she proposes to fully presenl th<- condition 

.ni«l needs of her race at the South to the ladies of 
< bange." 

'- W ashing roN, Jane 8, l .1. 

"Gen. B. F. Butleb, M. C, 

•• WmlmigUm, V. C. 
■ \\\ |>i m; Sir: Sojourner Truth began her la 
bors for her people many years ago. Under the oper- 
ations of our laws with reference to the indigent there 
is constant change. The government did lend a help- 
ing hand for a time, and many think no more should 
be done by the general government for the classes 
rendered helpless by the war and by slavery. 

"Sojourner finds many people living in compara- 
tive beggary, and many children growing up without 
education in either hooks, or industry, or honesty, 
whom she believes can be properly aided by the gen- 
eral government into Letter conditions. It struck me 
that the number of totally disabled soldiers, Arc, 
would grow le.^s as time gees on, and that possibly 
the income for your Asylum would soon render it 
practicable to try an experiment in the direction that 
Sojourner indicates. Without much thought and 
without consulting with any one, I have indicated by 
the enclosed papers what yon may be able to put into 

me good, practical shape. 

••It is hard to steer clear of very serious objections 
which arise against the exercise of benevolence or 
charity by the general government. Vet, as in ca 
of sudden overflow or famine, I believe the exercise 



252 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

deepens this feeling of regard for our already renova- 
ted Republic. Yours truly, 

" (Signed,) O. 0. Howard." 

The year 74 brought many vicissitudes to So- 
journer. Sammie Banks, her dutiful and beloved 
grandson, began to decline in health soon after they 
reached Washington, which obliged them to leave 
that city and return to Battle Creek, where he lin- 
gered till Feb., 1875; when he passed away from 
amongst us. Sojourner also suffered from serious ill- 
ness during that winter, and her life was despaired of 
for many long weeks. But her friends now rejoice to 
sec her convalescing. She feels that for some special 
purpose her life has been spared, comparative health 
restored, and her mind brought back from the shad- 
owy realm where it wandered during the days and 
nights when that red-lipped demon, Fever, with in- 
satiate thirst, sucked the juices from life's fountain. 
She says, "My good Master kept me, for he had 
something for me to do." 

She has no means of support. The ulcer upon her 
limb, from which she has so severely suffered, is par- 
tially healed. She says the " Lord has put new ilcsh 
on to old bones," which is proof to her mind that he re- 
quires more work of her. She hopes to go to Washing- 
ton again and get her petition before Congress. Anna 
Dickinson says, " I hope every one will buy the pic- 
tures I gave her, and do all they can to help the 
woman, poor and old, who in her prime and strength 
helped so many." Another earnest woman asks the 
people to buy her book, and by so doing make her in- 






A CENTURY OF TOtL. 

dependent in her lasl da} No faithful servant of 
the «li\ ino Master should bo accounted a burden \\ hile 
on earth, for the earth is the Lord's and the products 
:nv doubtless designed to sustain the creatures he lias 
placed upon it. Especially should those who have 
borne the burden and heat of the daj of life trustfully 
receive everj comfort. 

.\ friend not long ago offered to write her life. 
She told him she was " not ready to be writ up yet, for 
she had lots to accomplish first." She is now ready 
to be written up to this date, hoping thereby to com- 
plete the great enterprise she has undertaken. Born 
far back in the eighteenth century, and working for 
nearly a hundred years for the good of humanity, we 
see her ready to enter the last quarter of the nineteenth 
century with eye of faith undimmed and strength of 
spirit unabated. She 1ms Bought to promote every 
reform that has been agitated during this century. 
Most of those who were associated with her have gone 
from " works to rewards." But few survive to wit- 
ness the flowering of those freo institutions which 
they labored so industriously to plant. 

Sojourner yet lingers on the verge of time, present- 
ing to the world the extraordinary spectacle of a 
woman who, by native force, arose from the dregs of 
social life, like :i phenix from its ashes, to become the 
defender of her race; and she has for years struggled 
faithfully to extricate it from the doom of perpetual 
slavery, to which it seemed to have been committed 
by the despotism of a great nation, the gigantic atro- 
ciousness of whose laws surpassed any other in the 
annals of the ages. Her parallel exists not in history. 



254 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

She stands by the closing century like a twin sister. 
Born and reared by its side, what it knows she knows, 
what it has seen, she has seen. Her memory is a vast 
storehouse of knowledge, the shelves of which contain 
a history of the revolutions, progressions, and cul- 
mination of the great ideas which have been a part of 
her life purpose. She continues to keep guard over 
the rights of her race, to the interests of which she 
has so long been devoted. True to the character of 
sibyl, which genius has awarded her, she, while work- 
ing in the present, points to the future for the fulfill- 
ment of her longings and her hopes. 

Cosmopolitan in her nature, she calls the world her 
home, and says she could never apply to a town for 
aid, but would sooner appeal to the whole United 
States, for the welfare of which she has labored and 
which is more her home than any single locality of 
town or State. She loves her country with truest 
love. After the emancipation of her people, when 
passing the capitol buildings, she would often pause 
to contemplate the ensigns of liberty displayed upon 
them, which then admitted a new interpretation. 
She devoutly thanked her God that the flag proudly 
floating over the dome at last afforded protection to 
such as she, and that the stars and stripes no longer 
symbolized the " scars and stripes " upon the negro's 
back. Instinctively her soul claimed kinship with 
the emblematic eagle, whose glittering eye seemed to 
pierce the clouds, and the span of whose wings was am- 
ple to hover over four million freemen, upon whose limbs 
the clanking chain would drag no more. And when 
her free black hands were raised to heaven, invoking 



THE NINETEENTH CEN l i RY. 

blessings upon her country, it was a fairer sighi to 
and a surer guarantee of its permanence and glon 
than was the imposing spectacle of thai beauteous 
" queen of the East," upon whose snowy, perfect band 
tin' golden chains of slavery slu.ne, as Bhe entered ili<' 
gates of the eternal city, leading the triumphant pro 
cession of :i ( taesar. 

The nineteenth century towers above all preceding 
ones. Numberless inventions and improvements are 
embraced within its circle. Mechanics, agriculture, 

commerce, science, and arts, the world of matter and 
the world of mind, have budded and blossomed, so to 
speak, as never before. The contemplation of its 
achievements is at once sublime and overwhelming, 
and not alone for what it has done, but for what it 
prophecies of the coming time. The century is a sil»\ 1, 
too. Upon the foundation it has laid, a Buperstrui 
ure may arise more symmetrical than prophet has yet 
dared foretell. "It builded better than it knew." 
can truly be averred of it. But the century has near- 
ly run its course. Already are the " fateful Spin- 
ners" coiling the strands with which to ring its fil 
neral knell. Its plumed hearse and sable mourners 
loom up like ghosts in the dim horizon of the near 
future. The grave-digger, sharpening spade and pick, 
prepares to do his part. Representatives from many 
nations and races hasten to join the pageant, to pay 
the last honors in the " City of Brotherly ! . >.<•," where 
the obsequies are to be celebrated. 

Let its accept the name as a happy omen, for. Bhad 
owing the time when brotherly love shall so abound 
that the relation of each to all will he so plain that 



25(3 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

4 

"he who runs may road." The century's history is 
nearly written up, and Sojourner's lacks but another 
chapter in which she hopes to chronicle the accom- 
plishment of her heart's desire. May her longevity 
transcend the century with which she lias so long 
kept pace. 

She has ever listened to the still, small voice within 
her soul, and followed where it led. She has clothed 
the naked, and fed the hungry ; been bound with those 
in bondage, and remembered her less fortunate brother 
when released from chains herself. She has upheld 
the right and true, denouncing wrong in high places 
as well as low. Her barque has been carried far out 
to sea, and now it nears the port. May she encounter 
no more storms upon her homeward course, but, wafted 
by soft, sweet winds through placid waters, peacefully 
enter the harbor of the " King Eternal." And when 
she glides from ship to shore, may she hear the wel- 
come, " Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy 
laden, and / will give you rest." 



SOJOURNER TRUTH'S CORRESPONDENCE. 

But few of the autograph letters contained in her 
" Book of Life " will be published, as it is beyond her 
limited means to give all to the public. She trusts 
her scribe to make the selections. She holds all in 
dear and precious remembrance. The light emanating 
from their true friendship pierces the darkest clouds 
that obscure her horizon, and sheds its blessed rays 
across the path she treads. She hopes and believes 



i 1 • 1 1 1 I '« • \ l > I-. N ' i 
tint all their names are written in the " Lamb' 8 B& 

of Life" and tliat the sweet communion began in 
time will continue when time -hall 1m- no more. 

I I ! rERfl IND SIONAT1 RB8. 

" BoOTON, Ai ... 6, 1 

"Having been long acquainted with Sojourner 
Truth, and familiar with her eventful life and mar- 
velous experience, I heartily commend her t<> the re- 
spect, hospitality, and generous u' I will of th< 

among whom her lot may be east for the time being : 
first, because of the cruel wrongs and sufferings en- 
dured by her while held for so many years in slavery j 
secondly, because of her disinterested, timely, and 
self-sacrificing labors among the wounded colored 
soldiers and destitute freedmen at the national capitol 
during the late rebellion ; thirdly, because of her 
worthy character, and her many inspirational public 
testimonies in the cause of truth and righteousness : 
and, fourthly, because of her veneral ge and n< 

essarily increasing infirmities. 

k - Wm. Lloyd ( Harrison." 

"Sojourner Truth, with the best wishes of hi i 
friend, Jl ELEN I!. ( rARRISON." 



"About twenty years ago my acquaintance beg 
with this great and truly estimable woman. Sojourner 
Truth, since which time I have never 1 to feel 

myself stronger in spirit, ami more earnest for justice 

and right for knowing her. We have dwelt togetl 

I 



258 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

under the same roof weeks at a time ; we have 
traveled together, holding meetings, myself a silent 
companion, and to-day I rejoice to subscribe my name 
with her chosen friends, in her l Book of Life.' 

" Amy Post. 

"Rochester, N. Y., May 3, 1871." 



" May God bless, elevate, and enlighten the colored 

race, is the humble wish of their friend. We have 

met and conversed with their representative, Sojourner 

Truth, and are very much struck with her experience, 

as proving the principle that God reveals himself in 

other ways excepting that of his word. 

"James E. Wallace. 
"Rochester, N. Y." 



" God speed thee in the right, Sojourner. 

"Thy friend, Stephen Archer. 

"DoWs Ferry, N. Y." 



"Anti-Slavery Office, New York, July 29, 1863. 

" Dear Sojourner : — 

"Yours by the hand of J. M. 
Peebles came promptly. I thank you for the photo- 
graphs, though they are poor compared with the one 
you sent me first. It is a pity you did not preserve 
the negative of that instead of this. Not only is the 
likeness better, but the work also. 

The mob did not disturb the Anti- Slavery office, nor 
me. The fact is, the Standard is scarcely known to 
the vile class composing the mob, having but a small 



CORRESPONDENT K. 

circulation in the city. Bui ii would have taken only 
:i hint t<. direct their attention to us, ami then my 
life would have been in danger, and the office would 
probably have been destroyed. A good Providence 
seems to have watched over us. Mr. Leonard, the 
colore! clerk, was obliged to hide, but no harm came 
to him. Many of the colored people were dreadfully 
abused, but a very healthful reaction lias already » 
in; and I believe the condition in this city will be 
better than it was before. Dpwards of $30,000 has 
been raised for the relief of the sutlerers, and they 
will get pay from the city government for the propel 
they lost. I shall send the Standard as yon request. 

"With sincere regard for you, and earnest pray 
for your welfare, I subscribe myself, 

" Yours faithfully, Olives Johnson." 



"Boston, 
" Dear Madam ■ — 

'• J inclose my cheos for ten dollars 

($10), a donation from the Rev. Photius Fiske, for 

Sojourner Truth. Please acknowledge the receipt <>t' 

ne. Yours very truly. WENDELL PHILLIPS." 



"The first time that Sojourner addressed a public 

meeting in Orange, some years since, she .said tl 
the Hist shall he last and the last first, and that she 
believed the colored race would yet lead the people 
out of darkness ;ind ignorant It now Beems likely 
that the colored voters of New Jersey will redeem the 
state from the grasp of tin- ignorant and depraved 



260 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

democratic party. Sojourner is now laboring to con- 
summate that glorious work. May Heaven grant her 
success. Rowland Johnson. 

" Orange, N. J., 1870." 



A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION. 

"Syracuse, Oct. 9, 1868. 
" Dear Friends : — 

" The bearer of this note will be So- 
journer Truth, a worthy and remarkable woman. 
She is going to Courtland, to visit Miss Mary E. 
Mudge and other friends. I shall be obliged to any 
persons who, on the arrival of the train at the Court- 
land depot, will help her to find her friend's house. 

" Samuel J. May." 



" Washixgton, D. C, March 22, 1S65. 

" My Dear Sojourner : — 

" I have made an arrangement 
for a meeting at the Union Baptist Church for next 
Sunday evening. I want you to come, if possible. 
Let me know if you can. 

'' Yours truly, John Dudley." 



" To my Friend, Sojourner Truth : — 

"The nearly thirty 
years' acquaintance I have had with you, all confirm 
your title to the name you have chosen, and its record 
in humanity's l Book of Life.' 

"Yours, Samuel L. Hill. 

Floreiice, Mass., Feb. lJj, 1871." 



a 



C0RRESP0ND1 ' I.. 

"After a wearied pilgrimage of over night} yon 
she is a Bojourner among as, witnes ing the culmiii 
bion and fulfillmcnl of those greal truths which Bhe 
lias humbly foretold oft-times within the tasl four 
decades. Her pilgrimage is nearly over. Sojourner 
Truth is resting. She quietly and proudly awaits her 
time to pass over among those who have performed 
their part Good-by, aged friend. 

11 l!i< ii \i;i> Lahberi ii. of San Franci 

" WasMngUmt l>. ft, 1870." 



"l'lin \iii:i.i'ii!.v, TsKTB IfONTH, Jlsr, 1 

"I hope people will buy her pictures, which I have 
given to Aunt Sojourner, and so help her. Ami in- 
deed I hope every one will do all they can to help the 

woman, poor and old, who in her prime and strength 
has helped so many. I will write for VOU, aunty, the 
Arabic blessing, k .May you live to be B thousand years 

old, and may your shadow never grow less.' 

'• A \v\ : .. I >e K i \ 30N." 
"Amen to all dear Anna lias said. 

• \. C. Harrh 



"1 have very pleasant memories of Sojourner Truth. 
She has been a faithful worker in the cause of freed 

and of right. She can truly say. with Paul, ' 1 have 
fought a good fight, ... I have kept the faith ; 
henceforth there is laid up for mea crown v( righteous- 
ness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge shall give 
me.' With my Bincerest good w i^hes, 

•• Robert V W iu i r. M 



262 <c BOOK OF LIFE," 

" The wisest, wittiest woman I know is Sojourner 
Truth. Wiser and wittier, of course, than any man. 
I am glad to have enjoyed many years of acquaintance 
with her. I hope to enjoy many ages. May she and 
all her friends believe on her divine Jesus, and be with 
him where he is. Gilbert Haven." 



" Dear Sojourner : — 

" Love is the light, life, and central 
attraction of the universe, and will, if men yield to it, 
bring selfishness and misrule into harmony and law. 

May you ever feel its blessing. 

" C. A. F. Stebbins. 
" Washington, D. 0." 

" With earnest best wishes, your friend, 

" Giles B. Stebbins." 



" May the Lord Jesus, who met you in the way, 
ever be your friend, companion, and guide. 

" Your friend, Henry Foster." 



" Sojourner, as you are crowning earth's children 
with bright and beautiful truths, so the angels will 
crown you, when you enter the bright Spirit Land. 

" Benino, the little Indian squaw." 



" Anthony Village, R. I., Ninth Month, 16th, 1870. 
" God hath many aims to compass, 

Many messages to send, 

And his instruments are fitted 

Each to some distinctive end. 

" Peres Peck. Aged 84 years." 



< mi; ii • i-i i\ ni:\( i . 



■• > K 'i UNI It Till I II. 



■• Arisen from the degradation of to \tc one 

of the most noble reformers of the < \.<-n^ i 

her star illumine the pathway of the progn 
world. Mi:. M . < 

"East Medu 



■■ May the Lord bl m«1 preserve you through 

life. Yours, J. Mi M illen. 

•• Brooklyn, N. ) 



"That Sojourner Truth has ennobled human nature 
by her life, is the firm conviction of her friend, 

•• ALFRED E. < 111 . . 

" Boston, Ma ■." 



" Si aA< i be, N. V., U \u. ii 25, 1871. 
"Sojourner Truth was in Syracuse, Laboring in the 
cause of Christ and humanity. Although over eighty, 
she still has plans for future usefulness which she 
seems happy to contemplate. Her life testifies to her 
faith in God's words that 'no man putting his hand 
the plough and looking back is tit for the kingdom oi 
God.' J. S. LBD." 



"With ever kind and e\xr loving remembraj 
my dear old friend of more than thirty years' ac- 
quaintance. James Boyle, ML D. 

"No. -'■ W. Broadway, N. V.. -I"!:' IS, I 

" P. S. All the years during which we have known 
each other, we were co-laborers in the anti slavery 



264 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

movement, and now we see our wishes accomplished 
in the overthrow of that horrid wall of crimes and 
cruelties which Church and State combined to perpet- 
uate. The great God is leading the bordmen and 
bond women through a lied Sea to their freedom, and 
writing their deed of enfranchisement with the point 
of the sword, in the blood of their oppressors North 
and South. J. b," 

James Boyle made Sojourner a present of the stere- 
otype portion of her " Narrative," which includes the 
first 128 pages of this volume. 



"I have conversed with Aunt Sojourner, and be- 
lieve her to be a child of God. 

"Mrs. Lewis Fatrrrother. 
"Paivtucket, R. I." 



" Dear Aunt Sojourner : — 

" I thank the ' King Eter- 
nal ' that he is no respecter of persons, and that we are 

all his children. Henry C. L. Dorsey. 

"Pawtuchet, Sept, G, 1570." 

" Slavery has gone over the battlements, thanks be 
to God. Joseph A. Dugdale. 

" Mt. Pleasant, Iowa." 



"Dear Sojourner Truth, a holy woman doing a 
godlike work — May she prosper in her noble under- 
takings. M. L. Ives. 

"Detroit, Mich." 



C'ORRE! PONP1 

•• i;... rkstih, V *> , Mai 

" M \ I >i:\i; Sojourner Tri i n : 

•• I rejoice to find you 
strong in health, vigorous in mind, warm in heart, 
and, as usual, full of noble purposes, looking t<» the 
welfare of Buffering men and women. May yon long 
live to bless, cheer, and enlighten, and t<> lift up the 
oppressed, and Bmooth the pathway of the lowly, and 
may you set- the fruit of your labors multiply more 
than sixty or an hundred fold. 

• FREDERK ! >'•' GLAS." 



" Dear Mother in [sr iel : — 

" You are called of the 
Lord and anointed by his Holy Spirit to bind up 
the broken-hearted, and to sway the hearts <>t' men 
by a power greater than that which resides in thrones 
and scepters. .May God bless you, and give yen suc- 
cess in your divine mission. I >\mi:i. Stkki i . 
ee ( 'oil >■ . / "...-. .V. V.. May I '. 181 /." 



"Iola, Kan., Nov. 5, 1871. 
" How easy it is to detect the spirit, however hum. 
hie its garb, freed from the trammels of the world, 
party, or sectarianism. In yon, good old Sojourner, 
we see it far removed above all clogs. Once a Blave, 
now, in the highest sense a freed woman; desiring 
nothing, hoping for nothing, but the truth as revealed 
by the Spirit, not killed by formalism. We thought 
we saw afar off a true spirit, and desired to meet you. 
At our request and invitation, you honored us with 
your presence at our house. We hope you have en 



266 "BOOK OF LIFE.' 

joyed the visit as well as ourselves. The best room, 
the best bed, and the best seat, we have intended to 
reserve for you, hoping to make you feel free and at 
home. Be assured, good friend, we feel grateful to 
you, and benefited by your counsel, and words of wis- 
dom and truth. May your labors for the promotion 
of your race and our common humanity meet with 
abundant success, and, finally, great reward, is the 
earnest desire of your friends and well-wishers, 

" Byron M. Smith, 
" Eliza S. Smith." 



" May God's blessing rest on thy labors for the ele- 
vation of thy race and the general good of mankind. 

"G. Knowles. 
" Leavenworth, Kan." 



" Dear Friend Sojourner : — 

" I hope that you will live 
to see the day when the people of this land shall be 
wise, and through their government care for the poor 
and ignorant, both black and white, as a wise parent 
cares for his children. Eliza B. Morgan. 

" Leavenivorth, Kan." 



" 53 Broadway, New York, Jan. 17, 1868. 

" Sojourner Truth : — 

" Dear Madam — I had the pleas- 
ure of meeting you several years ago, at my uncle's, 
Mr. Richard Mott's, in Toledo. I saw Mr. Mott a few 
days ago, and he told me where you reside. I send 
one dollar, inclosed, for which please send me, by 



C'ORRKSPONDI 

mail, as mani of pour photograph bo monej will 

pay for. It you have two or three diflerenl on< 

I 'lease send one of ear!:. Perhaps VOU lnav li.i\ e 1 1. •: 1 1 • 1 

of the death of Uncle James Mott, brother of Itichard 
Mott and li;i band of Lucretia Mott, He died lu I 
Sunday, .Mis. Mott is quite feeble and feels hei 
Loss 7ery much. I shall l>e glad to Bee '■ ■ 
when you come : New 1 ork, and shall try to do 
" Very truly yours, Walteh Brov 



" Broo r, Sept. . I 

'• 5Tour Letter of the L2th inst, has just reached me. 

I take pleasure in seconding my husband's invitation 

to yon for a visit at our house. He v. ill, no doubt, 

he away most of the winter, th< refbre, if your health 

will permit, as soon as you can come it will be 1" 

We live at 136 Livingstone St.. Brooklyn, Write to 

Mr. Tilton the day of your arrival, and he will m< 

you at the depot. 

" I am yours sine. rely. 

•• Elizabei ii I!. Tilton." 



'• I'i:u\ [DB . Ii. I., BlPT. 14, 1.870. 
" TO SOJOURNEB Tai TH : — 

" .May your last days be your 
best. .May your sun Bet in glory. Having follow 
in the footsteps of Jesus all the way, he will now 
guide your feeble Bteps up the mount of ascension, 
and when the opening heavens receive you, you shall 
hear his sweet voice saying, ' Well don.. ad 

faithful servant,' R \< hel < '. M \nn 



268 "BOOK OF LTFE." 

" To Sojourner Truth, the Libyan Syp.il : — 

" I give thee joy, my noble friend and true, 
Thou who, but yesterday, a scorned slave, 
Bearing the cross within thy great, brave heart, 
Wert scourged and scoffed at by the heartless crew, 
And only pitied by the Christ-like few 
Who seek — like Christ — the sorrowing to save, 
To-day, forevermore enshrined in art ! 
Honor and joy be thine ! How few like thee 
Wear the saints' aureole on an earthly brow. 
So thy wronged race, long trodden beneath the feet 
Of tyrant lords, and wearing the brand of shame, 
Shall yet in manhood's majesty complete 
Stand proudly in the sacred halls of fame. 

"Mrs. C. L. Morgan. 
" Mt, Pleasant, Wis., May :?, 1863." 



"Again are we privileged in having Sojourner with 
us. ; Tis very pleasant for us that she feels our house 
is her home. She speaks this evening in the Congre- 
gational Church. Mrs. A. Montague. 

"Kalamazoo, Mich., Aug. 26, 1871." 



" That the evening of your life may be as calm and 
peaceful as the morning was dark and stormy, is the 
earnest wish of vour sincere friend, 

" Lucinda Walling. 

"Mt. Pleasant, Wis., Sept., 1871." 



" May our friendship of many years continue for 

is short life. 
" Thomas Chandler. 



long ages after the close of this short life. 



"Baisin, Mich,, 1871." 



I ORRESPONDEN( I 2l 

11 M \ I >i:\i; ( ; i: INDM01 HER : 

" As i In- present Lb \ our 
first visit to Missouri, I want to put it on record in 
your ' Book of Life,' thai there is at Least one native 
Missouri an who entertains uo prejudice against col- 
ored people, bu1 on the contrary, values all alike 

cording to their worthiness. Sour Qoble labors for 

the freedom of t lie colored race are among nay earlii I 
remembrances, and your beautiful ideas of life, death, 

and God, will he among the last things I shall forget 

"W. II. .Mil lei:, Journal of Commerce. 
- Kansas Oity, Mo., June 15, U : :." 



" (.Hi; \ 1:1 eran Friend, 

Sojourner Truth We have 
known thee for a quarter of a century, hoard thy 
clarion voice in the day when the slave power rioted 
in the land and trod with its iron heel upon the 
hearts of its victims. God has blessed the Labors ol 
his servants in a signal manner, and slavery by his 
mighty power has gone over the battlements and is 
destroyed. May thy old age be crowned by his pn 
ence, and thy trumpet join with Gabriel's in the jubi- 
lee, when the countless multitudes shall surround the 
throne of God. Joseph A. 1 >i < -i> \ i i . 

•• ML Pkasant, Iowa, Second Month 7th, 1 



• Soy. it, l- 
" Sojourner Truth commenced her advocacy of tin- 
rights of her raer during our war with Mexico, si? 
which her travels and labors have been wide-spread, 
constant, and arduous. God has given her remarkable 



270 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

native sagacity, a ready command of strong, express- 
ive language, and a vein of sharp wit and rich humor 
with which to combat the falsities and delusions among 
the people of her time. May God give her length of 
days, and free utterance on the side of right and 
justice. W. L. Chaplin." 



" To Sojourner Truth : — 

" You say you wish to leave 
the world better than you found it. Posterity will 
give you the credit of having done so. 

" R B. Taylor, Editor Gazette. 
" Wyandotte, Kansas, Dec. 25, 1871." 



" Aunty : — - 

"Accept this book to collect the scraps 
of your eventful life, which has accomplished so much, 
and is now so entirely devoted to the interests of the 
poor colored people in Washington and elsewhere. 

"Robert Adams. 
"Fall River, Oct. 16, 1870." 



"Mendota, III., April 22, 1872. 

" To the Methodist Ministry of the Park River 
Conference : — 

"Dear Brethren — Allow me to introduce to you 
Sojourner Truth, and bespeak for her your friendly at- 
tentions. If her religious experience, as narrated a 
few years ago in the Atlantic Monthly, by Mrs. H. B. 
Sbowe, affected you as it did me, you will feel it an 
honor to receive her in the Lord with all gladness. 
Your brother in Christ, D. F. Holmes." 



a 



CORRESPONDENCE. 271 

A short Bermon inserted in Sojourner's * Book of 
Life, 1 and one which Bhe appn oiab a : — 

"Our Lngresa in life La marked and bare, 
Our progress through life is trouble and can 
Our egress oui of it we know doI where, 
r.m doing wel] here, we Bhall <1<> well there. 

■<'. I". M..i oak. 
Li ■!'■■ nworth, Kan.) Jan. • -'/, /' s '.' 



». 



" SPRINGFIELD, M LBS., 1 , 1871. 

" SOJOURNEE 'l'i;i TH : — 

" Dear Friend -In writing my 
name in your ' Book of Life,' it gives me great pleas- 
ure to say that our acquaintance of some twenty yea 
has made me Largely your debtor. 5 our Bteadj devo- 
tion to the cause of suffering humanity has always 
commanded my esteem, admiration, and reverent 
\ mi have spent a long and laborious lit"*- for the 
good of others, may you always find troops of friends 
to minister to your comfort while you sojourn among 
mortals. And when at last you pass on bothe higher life, 
I trust you will he met hy a host of immortal friends 
on the shores of the summer land, who will welcome 
you to the blest abodes. K. W. Ti WING." 



" Your, life, commencing in the depths of slavery, 
opens grandly and brightly even there, and who can 
tell of the glorious angelhood into which it is unfold- 
ing 1 The ' Well done'awaitB you. Sojourner, and all 

• nest workers for humanity. 

•• M \i: i ii \ I.. Gale. 

•• East Medway, Ma . . 1871." 



272 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

" Aunty Sojourner Truth : — 

" We have been greatly 
pleased and edified by a visit from you. Having 
known you for about thirty years, it is with pleasure 
we add our testimony to your self sacrificing labors in 
behalf of your despised and oppressed race, and the 
cause of humanity everywhere. Although far ad- 
vanced in years, may you be spared to see your efforts 
for the elevation of your people crowned with success. 

"N. B. Spooner, 

" L. H. Spooner. 
"Plymouth, Mass., 1871." 



"May she who patiently hath wrought 
Through years of earnest toil and thought, 
Find her best hopes fulfilled at last, 
And when her wanderings are past, 
To crown her work of love be given 
Sweet peace on earth and rest in Heaven. 

"J. Walter Spooner. 
u Plymouth, Mass.''' 



"James N. Buffum, Ruth Buffum, Abby B. Buf- 
fum — all good friends of Sojourner Truth. 

"Lynn, Mass., 1870" 



"Go on, Sojourner, God speed you. 

"J. A. B. Stone. 
' ' Kalamazoo, Midi . ' ' 



" Blessings on thee, my good old friend. 

" Wendell Phillips. 

" Boston, Mas a.' 



mRRFSPi iMH '•< I 



VII r I PRESIDl n I (IRANI i i i i i i: «»r i s NtOlM (TKi 
PROM 'IN. ll«»w \Ki>. 

"Burbau or Ri A 

. .' . \: ■'■ 17, i 

"Gen. i . s. Grant: - 

•■ /', i i. nt U, S. Sojoui Rer Truth, 
qaite an aged and distinguished colored woman, earn- 
estly working for yean for her people, desin 
the president. She will pray for him surely ; but 
more heartily if she Beea him. 

" SToura respectfully . 0.0. How ird." 

Sojourner Bays : " I went in company with Beveral 
ladies and gentlemen to Bee the president, While 
waiting in the ante-room with oilier visitors, a gentle- 
man called, to whom i was introduced. lining a 
short conversation with him, he said, ' I recollect hav- 
ing seen you at Arlington Heighl Sow old do you 
call yourself no,- I had felt very much annoy. -d 
by people's calling to me in the street and asking t!. 
question. I mentioned it to Dr. Howland, and he i 
vised me to charge live dollars for answering that 
question ; so I said to the gentleman, A friend told me 
to ask five dollars for telling my a_ He smiled 
pleasantly, and invited me to call upon him at the city 
hall. After he left, my friends told me that that gen- 
tleman was Mayor liowcn, one of the best men in the 
city. Presently, a man came in, B free and. 
of fellow, and asked to see the president We w 
now ushered into the pres< nee room. A verj • mt 
lady and gentleman shook hands with the ident, 

and after a few pleasant words were p ok 

their leave. 



274 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

"Then the 'hail fellow' stepped up and offered his 
hand, saying, ' This is President Grant, is it ? You 
ain't as old as I thought you was. I've seen your 
picter, and your picter looks older than you do.' The 
president smilingly said, ' I am not so very old.' 
* Wall, how old do you call yourself, anyhow?' The 
president replied that he was 49 years of age. ' Ain't 
you no older than that 1 ?' said the fellow. 'No, sir/ 
patiently answered the president. ' You look older 
than that,' said he, and waited to see if the president 
had anything more to say, but, finding that the in- 
terview was ended, turned to go, saying, ' Good-by.' 
' Good-by, sir,' said the president, and the fellow 
walked off. 

" I felt very much mortified because I had asked 
Mayor Bowen five dollars for inquiring of me how 
old I was, when I saw how kindly and politely the 
president treated that clownish fellow. I will here 
add that I subsequently called upon the mayor and 
apologized for my rudeness to him. He said he ought 
to be the one to ask an apology, for it was improper 
to ask a lady her age. He invited me to spend a day 
with his family, which invitation I accepted and was 
cordially entertained by his lovely wife and interesting 
family. It was now our turn to be presented to the 
president. He shook my hand, and said he was 
pleased to see me. After a little pleasant conversa- 
tion, I expressed my gratification that the colored 
people had gained the right of suffrage. This he cor- 
dially indorsed. I now showed him my 'Book of 
Life,' which contains the autographs of Lincoln and 
other distinguished persons. He took the book and 






CORRESPONDED 

wrote liis name in it c To Sojourner Truth. I . s. 
Grant, March 31, L870.' I then handed him two of 
my photographs, which be book, and putting one in I 

pocket-book, he laid the other on the table and gave 
me a five dollar bill, for which I thanked him. 
" We now left, carrying with ns a plea ant impn Bsion 

of the president, and the memory of a delightful hour 
spent in the White Bouse." 



" \V L8HHTGTOK, APRIL 14, 16 

"My Dear Sojourner : — 

"I am so thronged with work, 
and applications for colored people, from all parts, that 
T cannot finish any day's work. I always go to bed 
tired, leaving much work undone. As to Bending 
you people, it is impossible to promise anything. We 
have been trying to get some people to go the 1 
week, but all who go incline to g<> to Providen 
Battle Creek, or some place where already several 
have gone. 

•'One thing now you may do * ud the names and 
residences of those who have applied to you t«>r help, 
and we will make one desperate effort. We Bend OUT 
men to Brockport tin's coming week. The Bureau re- 
quires that the names of employers be sent bo it' you 
send on the names, I will do the best I can. 5fou 
need not promise any till you see whether they can 
obtained. I wish much we could Bend a hundred 
men, they stand idle everywhere and will not go in 
any considerable numbers till after the first of June, 
when they will vote. With love and best wish 
"Yourfriend Josephine S. Griffin 



276 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

"Oct. 1(5, 1874. 

" Mrs. F. W. Titus :— 

" Can you inform me who wrote 
out (or otherwise compiled) and edited the narrative 
of Sojourner Truth's life 1 I shall be much obliged to 
you if you can give me this information ; it is desired 
for the library of a public institution. If you can 
tell me where Sojourner Truth is now, and as to her 
health and circumstances, I shall be glad and further 

obliged to you. 

" Respectfully, 

" Samuel May. 

"Leicester, Mass." 



EXTRACT FROM A LETTER. 

"Leeds, Mass., Jan. 17, 1870. 

'" Sojourner Truth : — ■ 

" My Dear Friend — A line from 
my brother received this afternoon, speaks of your 
being at Vineland, so I must send you a few lines to 
say how much pleased I was to hear from you through 
friend Amy Post, of Rochester, New York. Hope 
you have been successful in your present journey with 
such kind and efficient friends as Mr. and Mrs. Theo- 
dore Tilton to help you. Was very glad your mind 
was set at rest about your son Peter. How strange 
are the events of our lives. How little we know of 
the world we live in, especially of the spiritual world 
by which we are surrounded. But we may see 
enough to know that it is at least marvelously inter- 
esting. You and I seem to move around as easily as 
soap bubbles — now here — now there — making our 
mark, I suppose, everywhere, though mine is a very 



• 011KES11 >N DEN< I 1'77 

quiet mark compared bo yours. I gel a glimpse of 
you nft.cn through the papers, which Calls 1 1 j »« >i 1 my 
spirit like bright rays from the sun. There is a 
bit of a chapel here, pulpit Bupplied by a Mr, Merritt, 
and one evening last fall he repeated something that 
'Sojourner Truth' had said. I waa not there, so I 
cannot tell what it was. I did noi think you were 
laying the foundation of Buch an aim- »rld wide 
reputation when J wrote that little book for you, but 
I rejoice and am proud thai you can make yourpower 
felt with so little book-education. 

"OLU E ( rILBERT." 



Wotiiki; LETTBB l ROM III! SAME PERSON. 

•■ My Deau Fkiend : — 

"] may not be able to make 
ypU sensible of the heart-felt pleasure 1 experienced 
on receiving your kindly greetings once more, but 
hasten to thank you sincerely for them, and for your 
address which I have long wished f I ; and I 
you I am most happy in thus being enabled to return 
you my own greeting, fervent, fresh, and warm from 
the heart. It is a very long time since we have had 
any opportunity of communicating with each other 
directly, though I have been enabled to tind braces of 
you and your labors, from time to time, which was 
more, I think, than you have been able fco do of your 
old friend; for I am not so public a personage as 
yourself. 

•• Your call upon Mrs. Stowe, and our dear, saint< d 
president, and your labors connected with the army, and 
the Freedmen's Bureau, gave you a publicity that en 



278 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

abled me to observe you at your old vocation of help- 
ing on and doing good to your fellow-creatures, both 
physically and mentally. I was much pleased with 
Mrs. Stowe's enthusiasm over you. You really al- 
most received your apotheosis from her. She proposed, 
I think, that you should have a statue and symbolize 
our American Sibyl. 

I have written more than a sheet, and have not 
spoken of what has been in my mind all the time, of 
the great deliverance of your people from the house of 
bondage, the wonderful work of the Lord, accom- 
plished only through a cruel and bloody war, as was 
so often predicted by friend Garrison and others in 
days gone by. You may have witnessed many of its 
terrors. And oh ! it makes me almost speechless 
when I contemplate the hosts of men, and those the 
flower of their country, that were thus sacrificed to 
Moloch. There is but one reconciling thought, and 
that is, The Lord is all-wise and reigneth over all. 
He sees and knows what we observe, and not a spar- 
row falls to the ground without his notice. Of the 
little book I wrote for your benefit, some of the copies 
I took are sold ; others I gave to my friends as keep- 
sakes, &c. 

" Get some one to write for you soon, and believe 
me to be your true friend and well-wisher, now and 
forevermore. o. G." 



" The company of our estimable friend, Sojourner 
Truth, will ever be cherished with feelings of love. 

"Sarah T. Rogers. 

"No. 323, North Eleventh St., Philadelphia," 



I OltttESPONDEM i:. -< V 

\.\:,\ bb Strut, Boi ' ' i . api 

" I >i: \i; I'imi SB : — 

•• We are Borry to bear thai you ai i 
Buffering from ill health, and hope you may be getting 
better by this time. My mother, Mary May, who was 
one of the earliest abolitionists, with Mr. Garrison and 
Wendell Phillips, wishes me to send her remembran- 

008 to you, and her best wishes, and wants yon to ac- 
cept ten dollars fiom her. Perhaps yon have seen 
her, either here in Boston, or at the house of my 
brother, Samuel .May, in Leicester. She is eighty- 
seven years of age and rather feeble, though her mind 
is bright, and she is able to read a little and knit a 
good deal. I inclose a post-office order for fifteen dol- 
lars. Please accept five from me. 

" I should be glad to hear that the money reaches 
you safely, so I inclose a card addressed to us, for re- 
ply. I am, with very great respect, dear madam, 
" Yours, Abby W. .May." 



"Richmond, Ink, April 15, 1875. 

" Sojourner Truth : — 

"My Good Sister— Mrs. Dr. Thomp- 
son and myself, on hearing of your aillictions in the 
death of your grandson and your own sickness, have 
been trying to raise some funds for you, but I am sor- 
ry to be obliged, after waiting so long, to send you so 
small a sum as two dollars. For this you will find 
inclosed a money order. In reply I wish you would 
tell me all about your situation and wants, and if pos- 
sible I will send you more. Have you received any- 
thing from the Julians ? Have your wants been sup- 



280 "BOOK OF LIFE, 



>i 



plied 1 Tell me all the facts. How are you getting 
along with your sickness % 

" Mrs. Dudley sends with nie our hearty good wish- 
es, and we only regret that we cannot send }^ou some- 
thing more substantial to supply your needs. You 
are remembered in our poor prayers in our family. 
We shall never forget the light and cheer which your 
presence and words gave us when here. The good 
Lord, whom you have so faithfully served in labor for 
your poor race, will take you through and give yon, a 
weary old pilgrim, a home of rest and reward. Let 
me hear from you soon. 

" Your fellow-pilgrim and sojourner, 

" John Dudley." 



"With earnest respect for your constant effort to 
help humanity, and to make the world better for your 
being in it, I want you, dear friend, to think of me 
in this life and the higher one as your friend and 
sympathizer. Eliza S. Leggett. 

" Detroit, Mich., June 20, 1871." 



" Grand Rapids, March, 1873. 
" God bless Sojourner Truth, who spoke so grandly 
at the Second Street M. E. Church, last night, and who 
has been our honored guest for a few days. 

" L. H. Pearce." 



" Equality of rights is the first of rights. 

" Charles Sumner. 
"Senate Chamber, April 26, 1870." 



I ORRESPONDEN< i:. 281 

'• Oraxob, Feb. LO, 
■• A i \t SoJOl km.k : — 

•• />• << r FrU nd I learned last 
evening thai thee is dangerously ill, and tli.it it is pai 
alysis which lias prostrated tin I spent the even- 
ing with .Mrs. McKinn and learned it from her. 
Most sincerely do J hope she lias been misinformed, 
and that thy illness is something from which thee may 
recover, and that we may see thee again in tin- flesh ; 
but if this cannot be I know that thee is prepared to 
enter that beautiful world of spirits w r hich has seemed 
so near thee while here. 

" Dear Aunt Sojourner, may I among the many 
who love thee here, be remembered by thee on that 
beautiful shore of the river of everlasting life, and if 
thee is permitted to return to the children of earth, 
receive from thee some token of thy presence and con- 
tinued affection. 

"Thee left a trunk here which we will till and send 
thee as soon as we learn what will be most useful. I 
do not doubt but that thee has kind friends who are 
not only willing but anxious to make thee comforta- 
ble in every respect, I mean in Battle Creek. But 
those of thy friends who have not the privilege of re- 
lieving thy wants in person, would like to add their 
mite toward returning the kindness which thee, for so 
many years, has shown others. May the Infill] 
Love sustain thee, and that faith which has ever b< < n 
thy support in the trials of life become stronger and 
purer as thee nears the golden gates, is the prayer 
of thy loving friends, 

"J I. W.Johnson a- Rowland Johnson." 



282 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

"Standard Office, New York, Jan. 13, 1866. 

" My Dear Friend : — 

" I know you will be glad to pub 
your mark to the inclosed petition, and get a good 
many to join it, and send or take it to some member 
of Congress to present. Do you know there are three 
men, Schench, Jenkes, and Broomall, who have dared 
to propose to amend the United States Constitution 
by inserting in it the word ' male,' thus shutting all 
women out by constitution from voting for president, 
vice-president, and congressmen, even though they 
may have the right to vote in the State for State of- 
ficers. It is a most atrocious proposition, and I know 
Sojourner Truth will say, No, to it. God bless you, 
and help you to do the good work before you, is the 
wish of your friend, Susan B. Anthony." 



" Biddle House, Detroit, Jan. 29, 1S69. 
" Sojourner Truth : — 

u My dear Grandmother in Is- 
rael — I am sorry I cannot get time to take you once 
again by the hand before I leave Detroit, but I here- 
with inclose to you a five-dollar bill to keep you in 
mind of 

" Your dutiful grandson, 

"Theodore Tilton." 



" My Dear Friend, Sojourner Truth : — 

"If we never meet on earth again, 

my prayer is that we may meet on the other shore. 

" E. Dickinson. 
"Brodtiead, Wis." 



< ORRESPONDEN< E, - s '> 

•• SOJOl km:i: TE1 TH : — 

u You want tin- goi ernmeni to 
give land t<» the freed people. Thia would be true 
statesmanship, as l>y so doing we should 1»<- paying a 
little of the great debt we owe the freedmen, and at 
the same time putting them in the way of Bupporting 
and educating themselves, and enriching the nation. 

"Seth Hi m. 
" Northampton, Mass., 1871" 



"Boston-. MARCH 18, 1875. 

"Mrs. F. W. Tit. s :— 

"Dear Madam — I have your 
prompt reply to my note of inquiry, and hasten to in- 
close a check for twenty -five dollars for the benefit of 
Sojourner Truth. It is the contribution of Mr. 
Phillips, father, and myself. 

"W. L. Garrison, Jin. 



.. " 



" Sojourner Tri th : — 

" Dear Friend Sour life is a liv- 
ing epistle known and read of all men. You surely 
are a sojourner, laboring for the truth. Your life has 
been one of sorrow and toil, bearing in your own body 
and your own family the bitter injustice and cruelty 
that has sent you a missionary to the learned and un- 
learned alike for many years. You and I have cause 
of sympathy, each with the other. God bless and 
keep you ever. Calvin FAIRBANKS.* 

"Florence, Mass., March .'", 1871." 

* Calvin Fairbanks was confined for 12 years in Frankfort 
prison, Kentucky, for aiding a slave to escape. 



284 



BOOK OF LIFE. 



» 



"North Topeka, Kan., Nov. 20, 1871. 
" It has gratified me much, Sojourner, to see your 
face once more, and welcome you to my home and my 
church. It is a dozen years since we first met, and, 
possibly, we may meet again in this world ; if not, we 
will in the next. Our meeting in this far West has 
brought to my mind the beautiful words of Phoebe 
Carey : — 

' As ships from far and distant ports 
To distant harbors hurrying on, 
Meet with each other on the deep, 
And hail, and answer, and are gone, 

( So we upon the sea of life, 

Have met as mortals often will, 
One from the prairies of the West, 
One from the land of rock and rill. 

' So we shall pass on separate ways, 
As vessels parting on the main, 
And in the years to come, our paths 
May never meet or cross again. 

1 Yet when life's voyage all is done, 
Where'er apart our paths may tend, 
We'll drop our anchors side by side 
In the same harbor at the end.' 

" Thomas W. Jones. 
" Pastor of Cong. Church." 

" Sojourner : — 

" The words of my husband are warmly 
echoed from my heart, and I feel more than gratified 
to have had the opportunity of entertaining you in my 
own home. Be sure you will always be held in loving 
remembrance by us all. Helen M. Jones." 



<mi;i:i 1P0ND1 v -« I 

" I >i:.\i; S< I JOl i:n BR : 

•• A i j our request I record the I 
tlnit I succeeded in registering my name in the Fii 
Precinct of the Ninth Ward, and on Tui the I'll 

of April, cast the first vote for a state officer dep< rited 
in an A nicrii.Mii ballot-box by a woman for the lasl 
half century. After the vote was deposited, I present- 
ed a vase of flowers to the inspectors, and also handed 
them a large picture representing a large crowd of 
women in darkness, just entering the portals of an 
arch, which were inscribed, 1 Liberty,' and upon which 
an eagle was perched. The gates were held open by 
Columbia and the Goddess <>i" Justice. The forem< 
woman held in her hands a scroll, inscribed, ' The 
Fourteenth Amendment.' To the right were imps of 
darkness ileeing away, some with barrels of whiskey. 
( >u the left was pictured the < !apitol of Washington, 
with men crowding its steps, cheering, cV r c. Streams of 
Light ilowed upon them, while, with the exception of 
this and the foreground, the picture was darkness inten- 
sified. The following lines appeared underneath : — 

" 'We come, free America, five millions strong, 
In darkness and bondage for many years long 
We've marched in deep silence, but now we unroll 
The Fourteenth Amendment, which gives us a bouI. 
Glory, glory, hallclujuh, -lory, &c, 
As we eo marching on.' 

" ?> NNETTE K ( rARDNER. 

" Detroit, Mich., Jvm 80, 1871." 



" With a great deal of esteem. 

• Sour friend, JOHN R. FREN< ii " 



286 "BOOK OF LTFE." 

" Sojourner Truth lectured before the Pewamo Tem- 
perance Society last evening. She held the audience 
in breathless attention for one hour. May the Lord 
guide and protect her in her errands of mercy, and 
may her days be multiplied. One great desire of my 
heart has been gratified, which was to meet Sojourner 
and converse with her face to face. 

" Mrs. E. A. Chaddook, 

" President Pewamo Temperance Society." 



"Bristol, Conn., 1840. 
" Sister Dean : — 

" I send you this living messenger, as I 
believe her to be one that God loves. Ethiopia is 
stretching forth her hands unto God. You can see by 
this sister that God does, by his Spirit alone, teach 
his own children things to come. Please receive her, 
and she will tell you some new things. Let her tell 
her story without interruption, give close attention, 
and you will see that she has the leaven of truth, and 
that God helps her to see where but few can. She 
can not read or write, but the law is in her heart. 
Send her to brother Pice's, brother Clapp's, and where 
she can do most good. 

" From your brother in looking for the speedy com- 
ing of Christ, Henry L. Bradley." 



" May the God of truth sojourn with you through 
this world, and then give you an abundant entrance 
into mansions prepared for you in Heaven. 

" T. B. Welch. 

" Vineland, N. J., Dec. 25, 1869." 



CORRESPi »\l»i.\i r. 

" IIOPBD Mi , M | i 

" Faithful mother in [srael, 

Raised ap bo bless thy people, 

Fearless for God's righl isness, 

Witness for Truth's aknightim 

Scourge <<\ scornful oppression, 

Shamer of vain profession, 

Tender nurse of feebleness, 

I [elper of sad needine 

Friend of all humanity, 

And practical Christianity, 

w ondrous age of thy sojournment, 

Passing strange thy life's concernment, 
stranger than the tales of fiction, 
Full of woe and benediction, 
But crowned with rich fruition, 
May thy Heavenly Father bless thee. 
And guardian angels oft caress tie 
Till all thy toils are ended, 
And thy spirit has ascended, 
To be with Jesus mansioned, 
Among hi3 countless ransomed. 

" A,.,\ Balloi . 
"L' i j II. Balloi ." 



" Sojourner Truth is the most marvel-. us person m 
have ever had the pleasure of meeting. M.i\ I 
spare her, to see her heart's desire accomplished. 

"Mrs. L II. Pi \i> i 



" Vixia . \\i., .1 ix, i, 1870. 
"The Lord and good angels have blest you ami your 
work, and will bless you in that better world win 
I hope to meet Sojourner Truth. John <; koi 



288 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

"Niles, Mien., Oct. 9, 1873. 
"This neighborhood has been favored with the 
presence of Sojourner Truth among us. She dined 
yesterday at S. A. Gardiner's, took tea with Mrs. 
Henry Moore, and spent the night at M. F. Reed's. 
The Lord has blessed us with this angel in disguise, 
which has made our hearts very glad. May he bless 
her most abundantly. Mrs. H. Moore." 

" West Med way, Dec. 21st, 1870. 

" Dear Aunty Sojourner Truth : — 

" We intended to ride 
down to see you before you left Dr. Gale's, but shall 
not be able, for Mr. Ray has been to Woonsocket 
twice this week, and the rest of the week he is so 
much engaged that we cannot come. I am rather dis- 
appointed, for I wanted to see your dear face once 
more. Mr. Ray wishes me to tell you that he saw 
brother Gilbert Haven on Monday, and he said that 
he had been looking for news from you for some time, 
but did n't know your whereabouts. When Mr. Ray 
told him that you would spend Christmas with him, 
' God willing,' he said, ' That's good. Now we'll have 
a big time.'' Mr. Haven is anticipating your visit with 
a great deal of pleasure, and I know you will have a 
nice time. We are all well. Our circle met this 
week, P. M. and there were many kind inquiries for 
you. I am sorry you could not have stayed longer 
with us. May God bless you. I feel that the con- 
versations we had, did me a great deal of good, partic- 
ularly the relation of your experience on Sunday even- 
ing after meeting. 

" Yours in Christian love, Justina B. Ray." 



i OllRESPONDENi E. 289 

•' Philadelphia Hat 9, 1 370. 
- MRS. TlTl 8 :— 

•• We were made glad last evening by the 

return of our old friend. Sojourner, from Washington, 
where she has been for two months. She looks very 
well and bright, and is in her very best spirits as you 
will see by the following statement : — 

■• she has received from the government, through 
the influence of Gen, Howard, three hundred and 
ninety dollars, being fifteen dollars per month for 
twenty-six months. She has collected other funds to 
the amount of four hundred and fifty dollars, for which 
I send my check payable to your order, which you will 
please to nay to William Merritt on acc't of her mort- 
gage, and get him to send the receipt to me with a 
statement of her accounts. 

" She has lived to see her people delivered, and we 
may all rejoice with ber. 

*• Yours trulv, 

"Henby T. Guild, M. D, 

; B 



"Florence, Mass., March , I ,1 
"Sojoueneb Tut in : — 

"Dear Friend Mr. Hunt informs 

me today that Mr. Wheedon, Methodist minister in 
Northampton, will appoint a meeting for you in his 
church, next week Tuesday evening, and will himself 
cause notice thereof to be given next Sunday in all 
the churches in town, or in such of them as will give 
the notice. Mr. Hunt will also have the notice in 
the Free Press printed next Friday, and id the Gavetb 



290 "BOOK OF LIFE. 

printed next week, Tuesday. Now if you will inform 
me on what evening next week you wish to have a 
meeting in Florence, I will also have notice given 
here next Sunday, by the Methodists, the Congrega- 
tionalists, and in our meeting. Will also have the 
notice given in the Free Press of next Friday (if I get 
your reply in season), and in the Gazette of next week, 
Tuesday. You will be welcome to the use of our hall 
next week, either Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday 
evening. Please send me word to-morrow, if you can, 
which evening you will occupy. If not to-morrow, 
send word the next day, and oblige, 

" Yours truly, Samuel L. Hill." 



"On Saturday, Jan. 1st, 1870, our house received 
a new baptism, through Sojourner Truth, whose voice 
is continually praising God for the blessings bestowed 
upon her, and never murmuring because of hardships 
endured. She has been a wonderful teacher to me. 
I thank my God that I have met Sojourner Truth. 

"Portia Gage." 



" Wasiiington, April 10, 1867. 

" Isaac Post, Esq. :— 

"Dear Sir — Inclosed find a post- 
office money order for $20, which is intended for So- 
journer Truth, it being the amount due her from the 
New York Freedmen's Commission for December last. 
Please assure her of my regards, and that we shall be 
glad to see her when she returns. 

" Yours truly, A. E. Newton, 

" Sup't of Schools, d'c" 



( ORBESPONDENi I . 201 

•• Sojourner Truth has been \ erj ai oeptably received 

by the people <«r \ ineland, and I trusl thai the man) 

earnest words she lias uttered, 1 »« » 1 1 1 in public and pri 

\at»\ for the cause «>t' woman and the abolition of the 

death penalty, will be like seed casi upon good ground. 

"Deborab L. Butu 
"Jan. /:, 1870." 



Sojourner was most cordially and hospitably enter- 
tained whilst in Lawrence, Kansas, by a family of 

the name of Simpson, bankers in that place. 

The following testimonials of their respect are 
transcribed from her " Book of Life" : — 

"May your future, Sojourner, be ever brighter 
than your faith. W. A. SlMPSON." 



" I wish you the same, Sojourner. 

" Laura B. Simpson." 



" SOJOURNEB : — 

"May our faith be like thine, and OUT 
duty as well done. I\ vn: 1.. SlMPSON." 



"The Lord blr.^s you, Sojourner, and may your im- 
mortal crown be studded with many stars. 

"Hannah P. Simpson " 



'•The Lord bless you, sister Sojourner. I believe 
you are endued by the Spirit of the Lord in your ef- 
forts for the elevation of your race. 

"Samuel Simpson. 

tl ./,'"'<. nci , Kansas, Dec. /, 181 /." 



292 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

" Peterborough, N. Y., Dec. 11, 1S6S. 

" My Dear Sojourner Truth : — 

" I cannot let you go with- 
out telling you on paper how highly we have prized 
your visit to us. We have enjoyed your wit and 
powers of description, we have been instructed by 
your wisdom, and we have welcomed your religion. 
I trust that this is not your last visit to Peterborough, 
and that the good Lord and Father will spare you to 
come again to us. Wherever you shall go, there will, 
I trust, be good friends to receive you, to bless you, 
and to be blessed by you. I know that wherever you 
go you will be useful, for the head and heart that you 
carry with you are continually doing good. 

" With much love to you from my dear wife and 
myself, your friend, Gerritt Smith." 



" Sojourner Truth : — 

" With weary hand, yet steadfast will, 
In old age as in youth, 
Thy Master found thee, sowing still 
The good seed of his truth. 

" Rev. E. Marble. 
" Schoolcraft, Mich. Conference" 



" Friend Sojourner : — 

"It would be folly in me to ask 
the Great Spirit to bless that which he has already so 
abundantly blessed. Why should I invoke him to 
shower blessings upon thy head, or strew thy pathway 
with llowers ? Do not all these jewels naturally be- 
long to and sparkle around the footprints of those 






< ORRESPONDEM i:. 

who, like you, go aboul doing their M aster's b\\ ini ■ < 
'T is not race, profession, or position, but knowing the 
right and doing it, which si ml I entitle an individual to 
a Bafe passport to the home of the angels 

" \V U.T.I.-. ^ 



"Ton do, Ohio, Jm 
"SlSTEB SoJOl HNKK : — 

" I have receii ed my commis- 
sion to return to Washington and Richmond as Boon 
as I can possibly get ready, i. e., collet about $300 
more to go with. I want to he ready the latter part 
of next week. ( >h, how I want to know how you are 
getting along. I have not been to Battle Creek, and 
hardly think I can reach it; but I have written them 
and hope they will send money and clothes by an 
you. I cannot set precise date, but may, in a week 
or ten days, see Washington. 

" Our Home is getting along finely. The coloi 
people of Adrian placed |40 in my hands to buy ■ 
cow for the little folks at the Home. I have bought 
a good cow for them, which gives eleven quarts of 
milk per day, and Mr. \^m gave them another, 
they are nicely provided for. The colored people 
eave us a Christmas donation forth.' Haviland Some, 
valued at $113.84, mostly in provisions and clothing, 
with some money to purchase hens for the Hod 

"I must close with earnest desire for your pi 
ity in all things. 

"Yours for the poor and needy, 

■ I.UTV S. II WII.AVl' 



_ 4 "BOOK OF lif:- 

M - ■ March Wli. 

" Dear, Blessed Sojourner Truth : — 

• • I must address 
you from the heart, mother of love and truth as you 
are. I am blest and thankful that I have held your 
hand in mine, been greeted by you, and heard your 
voice, which, longer years than I have known, has 
been lifted up throughout the land against oppression 
and sin, say to me, 'I know your soul!' Blessed 
words ! Cheering me on my path and to be proved 
thrice blessed in the spirit world, where you and I 
will learn the deep import of your greeting. ' I know 
vour souL' God grant me strength also to ; be faithful 
unto the end,' even as you have been. 

" When Christ the Lord makes up his jewels, you 
then exalted will receive the crown eternal, and clothed 
in white rise upward in joy unspeakable and full of 
glory. Thanks be unto God who giveth us the vic- 
tory. Reverently and lovingly, 

•• Your child and lister, 

Jeshib Ley-. 



"Pawtocxet, >~ov. 10, •" . 

• Dear Sojourner : — 

•• I hope there yet may be found 
ten righteous people to save us this way. At any 
rate, perhaps you'll help us to hunt them up when 

i come. There is a nice little hall here which the 
temperance people occupy only Wednesday evenings. 
In applying for it, I found old friends of yours who 
knew you in Bensonville, and it was at once tendered 
to you in your behalf, free of any expense whatever. 
u Yours in ha- J. Ada 1 ' 



■ 

" BnrsoiriA, I » 

" I )K.\i: MOTH! ^ JOl RNEH Ik i I II ■ — ■ 

'• We h 
your 'shadow* all right- very beautiful W -m 

it very much. May God bless you and make you 
very useful, and prepare you _ ind 

rest, and glory. To day we suppose Father Abraham 
is again elected. May God bless him and L r i\«' him 
all Deeded wisdom and gr. k 

•• We all unite in much love to you. 
•■ Fours for tl . d cam 

"< B TOOMI 



" From the I. ntGlknikl." 

" He who feedeth the ravens, careth for the- 
E journer, and blesses all thy labors of love abundantly. 
i on proclaiming glad tidings. Preach the true gos- 
pel, and curse the follies and sins of this world. 
•■ 5Tour Old Lion 8 Oou 



" Schuti 

"A:- 

•• To S r.n Truth : — 

U D - I saw, this morn- 

ing, in th ,. ~ from 

a letter written by Mrs. Stickney fco our mutual firi 
1 Uncle' Jos Dugdale. I was glad to lean. 

i are among kind friends. Although my synr. 
tides were moved at the thought of your pov 

lily .: dictions, yet it was not with feelings of s 
row or regret. I rather rejoiced th;. or needs 

should have been the medium through which I learned 

vr whereabouts, and that still breathe in 



206 " book of life." 

atmosphere of truth, and fool an interest in the wel- 
fare of your race and all mankind. That notice will 
unquestionably bring you all needed temporal help as 
far as pecuniary aid can supply your wants. I will 
inclose a mite in this letter for you. It would be 
more only I that feel assured it will not be needed, as, 
no doubt, hundreds will feel glad of the opportunity of 
contributing to your needs. 

" Let us bless and praise God for his manifold good- 
ness. God's goodness is none the less displayed in his 
abused mercies turned into curses by a wicked people 
than in the fruition of divine joy by his obedient 
children. May his spirit in such fullness as thy ves- 
sel can contain and enjoy, ever be with thee. With 
fond Christian affection, 

" Farewell. Isaac Price." 



" Petbrrorough, May 4, 1809. 

" My Dear Sojourner : — 

" I was very glad to receive 
a letter from you, but sorry to learn that you are suf- 
fering from indisposition. I hope you will soon be 
well enough to go to Brooklyn and call here on your 
way. We very often talk of the pleasant visit we 
had from you, and when I am alone I frequently recall 
the words you spoke to us and feel refreshed and 
strengthened by them. I send you ten dollars, for 
food and fire as far as it will go. Wish it were more, 
but it must suffice now. 

" God bless you always, and keep you in his own 
peace. In much love, 

"Ann C. Smittt." 



CORRESPONDENT E. 

'■ A i K\ wnit! v. M IT 3, 1 

" Sojourner Tri ph : — 

" Deaf J'r'f nd — The bearei o( 
this note is desirous of going North and taking thence 
his family, consisting of wife and daughter. I have 
known him Bince my stay here, and recommend him 
t«» your consideration, [f anything can be done 
regards transportation, &c, it will be thankfully re 
ceived by him. 

" Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

" A. W. Ti - KER, 
"A, A. S S. i." 



'•Clad to see our dear co-laborer, Sojourner Truth, 
again. Lu< reti \ Mott. 

" Boad Side, Philadelphia, Eleventh Month, 1& 



1 1 E ver y < ) urs, HENRY WlLS< 

" Senator, Ma 

"April 20, is. 

"This is my firat interview with Abraham Lin- 
coln's 'Aunty' Sojourner Truth. A pleasant Beason. 

" George Tri man, 

"Philadelphia, Eleventh Month, I8i >." 



"I hope, dear Sojourner, that yon will be enfran- 
chised before you leave ns for the better land. 
" Your true friend, 

"Elizabeth Cady Stantoi 
"New York, May \, 1870." 



11 Very truly yoni 

M \ ; : n A. Dodge Gaii H uiilti 



298 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

" My friend, Sojourner Truth, the friend of the 

human race — God bless you. 

"Jacob Walton. 
"Adrian, Mich., 1871." 



" Your brother in the hope of glory, 

"B. Sunderland, 
" Pres. Minister, Wash. D. C." 



" May God bless and guide you ! 

"Anne G. Phillips. 
"Aug. 1." 



" Your true friend and co-worker, 

" Lucy N. Coleman. 
" Syracuse, N. F." 



" Your old young friend, W. F. Morgan. 

"Leavenworth, Kan" 



"S. C. Pomeroy, Senator, Kan. 
"April 20, 1870." 



"J. M. Thayer, Senator, Neb. 
"April 20, 1870." 



1 A. McDonald, Arkansas." 



" Most sincerely your friend, 

• " George W. Julian." 



" Henry E. Benson, Lawrence, Kansas." 



" Jacob M. Howard, Michigan Senator." 



"T. M. Morrell, Illinois Senator." 

" Yours truly, J. W. Patterson." 









IN WESTERN NEW Y0R1 
14 J. M. Bo¥ KM, Mayor of H ashinyti 



" George K. Spen< br, Si i iaA r, J/"." 



" I). D. Pratt, r. & Senator, Tnd." 



" H. I'. Revels, Senator, Miss., Colored: 1 

"J. S. Adam-;, Louisiana." 



" Z. Chandler, Mich." 



• R, E. Fenton, N. y." 



[C Jas. S, Fowler, Senator, T-nn." 



VISITS WESTERN NEW 70RK. 

" We met Sojourner at Angola Station, stopped at 

Joseph Linton's to dinner, then took her to Alonwi 
Hawley's, a few rods distant, where she spent the 
night. The next afternoon Mrs. Hawley brought hex 
to our house. Sunday, the 6th, called a meeting for 
her at Hemlock Hall, where, at 10 o'clock a. m. sin- 
addressed an appreciative audience of four hundred 
people. Wednesday morning we carried her to 
George W. Taylor's, distant six miles. The afternoon 
of the same day, Mr. Taylor and wife carried hex fi 
miles farther into the town of < Sollins, to the comforta- 
ble home of Isaac and Lydia Allen, aged people like hei 
self, who extended to her a hearty welcome En the 
evening she spoke to a good audience in the Rosen- 
burgh school-house near by, The following day, 
Thursday, was spent I ourner with the family of 



300 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

Mrs. Cook, who are relatives of the Aliens. The 
next night, Mr. Cook took her four miles, to Collins 
Center. There she addressed a large audience in the 
new Free Church, and felt that her labors were not in 
vain. Returned with Mr. Cook to the house of Isaac 
Allen. 

" Friday night, Mr. Allen and wife Nvent with her 
to Mr. Itosenburgh's, who took her to Gowanda, where 
she addressed an intensely interested audience. Sat- 
urday she was conveyed to G. AY. Taylor's, and Sun- 
day brought to Kerr's Corners, to the home of Lewis 
Bcildwin, where she remained until the 14th, and then 
spoke to a large gathering in the Methodist Church. 
After the meeting she came home with us once more. 
" She seems very quiet and happy here, and we are 
enjoying a feast which we may never be privileged to 
enjoy again. It is a blessing to be with her and re- 
ceive her experience from her own lips. Wednesday 
night, James Yarney carried her to Bront Center, 
where was assembled an appreciative audience in the 
new Methodist Church. On Friday night, the school- 
house in Pontiac was filled with people eager to listen 
to her teachings. Since that time she has been very 
quiet until the 2 2d, when she accompanied us to a 
political pic-nic at Hemlock Hall, where was convened 
an audience of probably three thousand people to lis- 
ten to able speakers. I have endeavored in a hurried 
manner to write a little diary for Sojourner, to show 
to such of her friends as are anxious to know where 
she has been and what has been her success. 

" Phebe Merritt Yarxey." 



l.\ WESTERN M.w ST0B1 ''I 

"James Varney conveyed Sojourner Truth t<> our 
house fourth day, the 23d of ninth month, 1868, whi 
she remained till the following sixth day, when w< 
ried her to the house of our son-in-law, P. Paxton, 
where she remained till seventh day evening, when 
she went to Potter's Corners to attend a large repub- 
lican meetiiifir in which she made a few remarks. This 

caused such enthusiasm among the people that it 

opened the way for a very targe meeting the next 
evening. The large hall was nearly tilled with an 
tentive audience, which she addressed for more than 
an hour, in her usually impressive and Ban man- 

ner, much to the satisfaction of the majority present 
From thence, she went home with Alfred Dfoore and 
wife, with whom she spent several days, to the edifi- 
cation of the neighboring people who came to see her. 
In conclusion, we rejoice in the opportunity of becom- 
ing partially acquainted with Sojourner Truth. .M 
she yet survive long to combat in her peculiar and 
impressive manner the errors with which this nation 
is enthralled. - BaKBB. 

" East Hamburg, 1'.. Co., N. \ . 

"On the 29th of ninth month, L868, J. B. C. Eddy 

went to J [any Abbot's after Sojourner Truth to 

tend a meeting held in Dr. Dolin'a ueighborh I, 

which was very well attended, and to good iction 

to those in favor of liberty. < ta the first day oft uth 
month, she held a meeting at Crnlms Mill-, in the 
lecture room, speaking to a good and attentive audi 
ence, telling them many trutJ Friend Sandford 
took up a collection for her. 1 can Bay on oui | 
that her company fa n very ble, and 1 h< 



302 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

she may live to have her wishes gratified in seeing 
Grant sit in the presidential chair. 

"J. B. C. Eddy." 

"On Monday, Oct. 19, 1868, Sojourner Truth, be- 
ing in Courtland village, was sent for by C. P. Gros- 
venor, and brought to Mr. Granville's. Tuesday eve 
she addressed a crowded assembly in the Methodist 
Church with good effect. She had been several days 
at Courtland, and lectured to a multitude, having her 
home at the house of the younger Dr. Goodyear, who 
was happy to have her company and make her ac- 
quaintance. Here she was visited by many ladies 
and gentlemen. Cyrus P. Grosvenor. 

" McGranville, N. F." 

MEETING IN NEW LISBON. 

"Sojourner Truth interested an audience in New 
Lisbon, Ohio, at the Methodist Episcopal Church, for 
nearly an hour, talking of slavery in this country, and 
the suffering and injustice inseparable from it. If 
earnestness is eloquence, she has a just claim to that 
appellation ; for she makes some powerful appeals, 
which cannot but strike a chord of sympathy in every 
human heart. 

" She sang the following original song at the close 
of the meeting : — 

" I am pleading for my people — 
A poor, down-trodden race, 
Who dwell in freedom's boaated land, 
With no abiding place. 






a 



MEETING in M w i rSBON. 

I am pleading thai my people 

May have their rights astored [reetored] ; 

J-'it tlioy have long been toiling, 

And yet had no reward. 

They are forced the cr<»ps to culture, 
Bui not for them they yield, 
Although both lato and early 
They labor in the field. 

Whilst I bear upon my body 
The scars of many a gash, 
I am pleading for my people 
Who groan beneath the lash. 

" I am pleading for the mothers 
Who gaze in wild despair 
Upon tho hated auction-block, 
And see their children there. 

" I feel for those in bondage — 
Well may I feel for them ; 
I know how fiendish hearts can be 
That sell their fellow-nan. 

"Yet those oppressors steeped in guilt 
I still would have them live ; 
For I have learned of Jesus 
To sutler and forgive. 



l o* 



'" I want DO carnal weapons, 

No enginery of death ; 

For 1 love not to hear the sound 

Of war's tempestuous breath. 

"I do not ask you to m 
In death and bloody stnf. . 
I do not dare insult my God 
By asking for their life. 



304 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

" But while your kindest sympathies 
To foreign lands do roam, 
I would ask you to remember 
Your own oppressed at home. 

"I plead with you to sympathize 
With sighs and groans and scars, 
And note how base the tyranny 
Beneath the strides and stars." 



TOBACCO VICTORY— THE BRANDED HAND. 

The habit of smoking was contracted by Sojourner 
in early youth. Not many years since, whilst travel- 
ing in Iowa, a gentleman asked her if she believed the 
Bible, to which she readily assented. Her friend 
said, " The Bible tells us that ' no unclean thing can 
enter the kingdom of Heaven.' Now what can be 
more filthy than the breath of a smoker?" "Yes, 
child," she answered, " but when I goes to Heaven I 
spects to leave my breff behind me." But as time 
passed on she became convinced that the habit was 
wrong. She had not courage to chide people for us- 
ing spirituous liquors while indulging in the use of 
tobacco, herself. Accordingly she discontinued the 
habit. She was told it would affect her health. She 
said, " I'll quit if I die." She did quit and lived ! 

"Rochester, Jan. 11, 1809. 
" Dear Friend Sojourner : — 

" The announcement in 
the Anti-slavery Standard of thy having laid aside 
the pipe, is receiving considerable attention. I re- 

\ 



A TOBACH VI< roilY. 

i lived ;i Letter from Dr, Trask, of Fitchburg, M 
who rejoices greatly over thy grand and triumphanl 
effort) and says, i It ought to be proclaimed fax and 
aear to strengthen others to ca b ido the abomii 
tion.' 

"Also a letter lias just come to me from our old 
and highly esteemed friend, Jonathan Walker, the 
original of ' The Branded Hand.' Thou'wiH probably 
remember him. Ee was captain of a small vessel run- 
ningfrom New 5fork to the Gulf States. He ted 

several slaves and brought them to the free Stat 
was taken and imprisoned, and the letters s s branded 
on his right hand, signifying slave stealer ; but in OUT 
vernacular we should interpret it slaw savior. This 
vessel with its entire cargo was confiscated, and he 
lay in a filthy jail in Florida for several months. 

•• \\!V P 

" Mi •.-■ Jax. 1 

"Mv Dear Aged and Venerated Friend; 

11 Your • ad effi ' 

ual devotion, for so long a time, to the cause of hu- 
man redemption, has, from my first knowledge of 
your missionary services to the present time, im- 
pressed me (as well as many others) with the warm* 
fraternal regard for your welfare and usefuln< 
When I saw it announced by Ann 1' t. in the 
slavery Standard} that you had abandoned the pipe at 
your advanced age, I could form no other c inclusion 
than that you hud done it under the influ< t" tip- 

keenest moral and religious Bensibilitii 

'I have known ministers and many profefors of 



306 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

religion, as well as other good people, who tried hard 
and long to abandon the use of tobacco, yet made a 
failure, and confessed that they could not conquer the 
habit. I distinctly remember, also, the tedious and 
desperate struggle I had to emancipate myself from 
twenty years' slavery to the foul weed. Considering 
the effect its long use has upon the nervous system, I 
could hardly suppose you could have achieved so great 
a victory at your age without a break-down ; nor do I 
look upon so heroic an act as much short of a miracle. 
May the example of such self-sacrifice in you, indeed 
stimulate and encourage (as Amy says) ' others to do 
likewise,' is the earnest desire of your 
" Sincere friend, 

"Jonathan Walker." 

"P. S. I am not sure, but I think I met you 
twenty-five years ago at Bronsonville, North Hanston, 
Mass., soon after my return from imprisonment in 
Florida. J. w." 

The heroic deeds of Jonathan Walker have ren- 
dered his name immortal ; and our prince of song has 
paid them a just and noble tribute in the exquisite 
poem entitled, " The Branded Hand," from which the 
following is an extract : — 

" Why, that brand is highest honor ! than its traces never yet 
On old armorial hatchments was a prouder blazon set ; 
And thy unborn generations, as they tread our rocky strand, 
Shall tell with pride the story of their father's branded hand ! 

' 4 Then lift that manly right hand, bold ploughman of the wave! 
Its branded palm shall prophesy, ' Salvation to the Slave.' 



S0J01 i:\r.i: n:i in', \..i . 

Sold no its fire- wrought langaage, thai who o reads may foel 
His heart swell strong within him, his sinewi I 

" Hold it up before our Bunshine, up :i£:un-<t our northern i i 
Sol men of Massachusetts, fur the Iots ofOod, look ti 
Take it henoeforth for your standard -like the Brace 1 bear! 

of yore, 
In the dark strife closing round ye, let that hand be seen bel 

" \ ml the tyrants of the slave-land shall tremble at thai sign, 
When it points its finger southward along tlie Puritan I'm 
Woe to t he State-gorged leeches, and the church's loeust band, 
When they look from slavery's ramparts <>n the coming of 

that hand." 



SOJOURNER TIM Ills AGE. 

Sojourner is often asked her age. She is as igno- 
rant of its date as is the fossil found in the limestone 
rock, or the polished pebble upon tho Bea-shore, which 
lias been scoured by the waves ever since the Bea i 
born. 

It was the diabolical Bcheme of those dealers in 
human flesh to so stultify the brain of the slave that 
it might become incapable of iv.-'s<»n, reflection, Of 
memory. The slave child followed the condition of 
mother, and seldom had any knowledge of Gather, or 
date of birth. They were Pompey or ( uffee, Dinah 
Ohloe, as the case might be, having no permanen 
ond name, but taking the surname of the m m- 

seipiently they received a new cognomen with each 
new owner. 

Sojourner counts her years from the time she was 
emancipated — says she began to live then. >he 



308 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

thinks it is what we accomplish that makes life long 
or short, and says that some have been on earth scores 
of years, yet die in infancy. 

The following account is well authenticated : — 

The act of 1817 in the State of New York emanci- 
pated all slaves of the age of 40 years. From this 
time all became free as fast as they arrived at the age 
of 25 years, till 1827, when all were free. Sojourner 
became free in 1817. This statement is corroborated 
by an old gentleman by the name of Miller, who was 
brought up in the vicinity of Sojourner's birthplace. 
He recently died in Green Co., Wisconsin. 

HER PARENTAGE. 

Mrs. Stowe was mistaken in regard to Sojourner's 
ancestry. Her mother's parents came from the Coast 
of Guinea, but her paternal grandmother was a Mo- 
hawk squaw. The " whoop " Sojourner gave in the 
horse-car at Washington was probably a legacy from 
her Mohawk ancestor. 

EXTENT OJ HER LABORS. 

Sojourner Truth has traveled and lectured in the 
following States : — ■ 

New York, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Maine, 
Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Ohio, 
Illinois, Missouri, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Connecti- 
cut, Vermont, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Dela- 
ware, Maryland, Virginia, and the District of Colum- 
bia, 



\m;< i>. »i :,m i 



\\i:ci)(»Ti 

BOJOU&NBB IEUTE A i LBZNOTON. 

About 20 years ago Sojourner attendod a - 
meeting at Abington, .Mass., to oelebrate negro 
emancipation in the West Indies. Many of the old 

line abolitionists were there, — Pillsbury, Garrison, 
Phillips, Stephen and Abby Foster, Henry ( '. Wright, 
Charles Lenox lliinond, and a host of oth< Tl 

fugitives from southern slavery, who were traveling 
over the underground railroad to Canada, stopped off a 
train to enjoy a day with friends before going to that 
" cold but happy land." They sat upon the platform 
with the speakers. One, a very large man, was 
squeezed into a coat much too small for him. The 
other, a diminutive man, wore a coat of Buch ample 
proportions that it hung in folds about his liliputian 
form. But as these garments had been given them 
by employees on the underground express, and were 
the first of the kind they had ever owned, the jit did 
not appear to disturb them, judging by the pleased 
look upon their faces. The contrast between tin LI 
present condition and what might have been, had tl 
been overtaken in their flight and dragged back into 
slavery, filled them with bli They were compara- 
tively happy. 

These coat collars wen; nicer than the iron coll 
which might now have been on their necks : and the 
culls, softer than the iron culls which they knew the 
captured fugitive was made to wear. The voi 
blood-hounds baying in the <' : *aa supersedi 



310 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

by kindly human voices. Traveling toward the North 
Star by night, they had hidden in dark caves and un- 
derbrush during the day, avoiding the light of the 
sun. Now, streams of golden sunlight flowed around 
them. Surely, they were receiving " beauty for ashes 
and the oil of joy for mourning." 

One of them arose, and in a brief manner expressed 
his appreciation of this mighty change, and his deep 
gratitude to the people of Massachusetts for their 
kindness and generosity. At the close of his re- 
marks, which were received with applause, Mr. Gar- 
rison said, " Sojourner Truth will now address you in 
her peculiar manner, and Wendell Phillips will fol- 
low." Sojourner began by improvising a song, com- 
mencing, " Hail ! ye abolitionists." Her voice was 
both sweet and powerful, and as her notes floated 
away through the tree-tops, reaching the outermost 
circle of that vast multitude, it elicited cheer after 
cheer. She then made some spicy remarks, occasion- 
ally referring to her fugitive brethren on the platform 
beside her. At the close of her address, in which by 
witty sallies and pathetic appeals, she had moved the 
audience to laughter and tears, she looked about the 
assemblage and said, " I will now close, for he that 
cometh after me is greater than I," and took her seat. 
Mr. Phillips came forward holding a paper in his 
hand containing notes of Sojourner's speech, which he 
used as texts for a powerful and eloquent appeal in 
behalf of human freedom. Sojourner says, " I was 
utterly astonished to hear him say, ' Well has So- 
journer said so and so ' ; and I said to myself, Lord, 
did I say that % How differently it sounded coming 



INECDOTI II 

from Ins lips ] He dressed m\ | p, bare speech in 

Buch beautiful garments thai I 1 il 

Hl\ self." 



As Sojourner was returning to the home of Amy 
Post in Rochester, one evening, after hai ing deliver d 
a lecture in ( lorinthian Hall, a little policeman Btepp 
up to her and demanded her name. She paused, 
struck her cane firmly upon the ground, drew herself 
up to her greatest tight, and in a Loud, deep, voice 
deliberately answered " / am tluii Tom." The fright 
ened policeman vanished, and she concluded her walk- 
without further questioning. 



1 Hiring the war. Sojourner met one of her demo- 
cratic friends, who asked her, " What business are 
now following]" She quickly replied, tt Yt 
when I lived in the city of New York, my occupation 
was scouring brass door knobs; but now ] go about 
scouring copperheads." 



At a temperance meeting in one of the towns oi 
Kansas, Sojourner, whilst addressing the audit 
was much annoyed by frequent expectorations of 
bacoo juice upon the Hour. Pausing and oontem 
ing the pools of liquid filth, with a look of di g 
upon her face, she remarked that it had the 

custom for her Methodist brethren to kneel in the 
house of God during prayers, and asked bo* U 
could kneel upon (/>■<■ flooi Said sli. iking 



312 " BOOK OF LIFE." 

with emphasis, " If Jesus was here he would scourge 
you from this place." 



Previous to the war, Sojourner held a series of meet- 
ings in northern Ohio. She sometimes made very- 
strong points in the course of her speech, which she 
knew hit the apologist of slavery pretty hard. At 
the close of one of these meetings, a man came up to 
her and said, " Old woman, do you think that your 
talk about slavery does any good 1 Do you suppose 
people care what you say 1 ?" "Why," continued he, 
"I do n't care any more for your talk than I do for 
the bite of a flea." " Perhaps not," she responded, 
"but, the Lord willing, I'll keep you scratching." 



Sojourner was invited to speak at a meeting in 
Florence, Mass. She had just returned from a fa- 
tiguing trip, and not having thought of anything in 
particular to say, arose and said, " Children, I have 
come here to-night like the rest of you to hear what I 
have got to say." Wendell Phillips was one of her 
audience. Soon after this he was invited to address 
a lyceum, and being unprepared for the occasion, as he 
thought, began by saying, " I shall have to tell you as 
my friend Sojourner Truth told an audience under 
similar circumstances, I have come here like the 
rest of you to hear what I have to say." 



\ i rOORAPBS. •■I'i 



Autographs of Distinguished Persons, 

who hvvh BBFBIBNOBD BOJOUBNBB TBUTB B1 IfOEM 

OF SYMPATHY AM' KATKBULL \n». 







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314 



"BOOK OF LIFE. 



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olC "BOOK OF LIFE.' 



NOTES ON THE AUTOGRAPHS. 

In Sojourner's correspondence are found names of 
such weight and power that it seemed fitting to have 
them engraven for her ' i Book of Life. " Here are names 
that are indelibly stamped upon the pages of their coun- 
try's history, and inseparably connected with it — 
names which will reverberate adown the centuries, 
and the echoes be caught by the generations in the 
coming time — " immortal names that were not born 
to die," but which are synonyms of all that is most 
exalted in human life and character — names of men 
and women, the luster of whose lives shed a light on 
humanity's page, pure and sparkling as the shimmer 
of a white wing flashing through the yellow sunlight — 
names of those who manifested their love to God by 
tender compassion for the lowliest of his children. 

The name of one who was dragged through the 
streets of a populous city with a halter about his neck, 
will be remembered when that city which permitted the 
outrage, would be forgotten but for the immortality 
attained through his sublime heroism. Boston with 
its moving atoms will fade away, but the waves of 
progress received an impetus from the breath of this 
true devotee of freedom which will help to cleanse and 
purify the streams of life till they are engulfed in 
the ocean of eternity. 

The name of one is written who only " awaited the 
opportunity to enfranchise millions," 






NOTES ON i in: A i imi.i: \i'n | , 

I read the name of one who traveled many winb 
among the hills «»t Ne^i England, braving its nu 
drifts and piercing winds, to preach the gospel of fn 
• loin to those whose hearts were harder than tin- gran 
ite rocks over which he toiled, and chillier than the 
snows and breath of winter. Abandoning a situation 
of honor and profit, he consecrated his giant intell. 
and the best years of Ids life, to a cause that brought 
neither honor nor profit, despised by mammon woi 

BhiperS and all who sock the applause of such. Be 
yond the turmoil of the present hour, when its noi 
and uproar have died away, the refined and polished 
future will render his verdict. He can afford t.> wait 
The present never knows its saviors; retrospection 
clears the vision. 



The inlluence of another, who labors with d< 
earnestness in the Master's vineyard, confined to no 
locality, knowing neither North nor South, hut im- 
parting his loving spirit to all races and conditions of 

society, will be felt upon the tide of civilization whilst 
its waves break upon the shores of time. 

Here is the name of a noble woman who has y 

lip Calvary hearing the cross, and gained the mount 

of ascension with bleeding feel ; who has labored 
the rights of her race and foi tie- righti of 1,. . 
braving the scorn and obloquy of conservatism. Bold 
iconoclast! endure a little longer. "The houi I 
your ideas has not vet struck," 



318 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

One, languishing twelve years in prison, found com- 
pensation for his sufferings in the words of the divine 
Master, " Sick and in prison ye ministered unto me." 

One of these, a world-renowned orator, said, " The 
age of reading men has come. The age of thinking 
men has come. The age of the masses has come." 

One of Sojourner's friends, by her genius in the 
delineation of character, opened the world's eyes 
to perceive that irresponsible power vested in a 
Legree was a dangerous thing, and that Uncle Toms 
and Topsies were human beings after all. 

Another inscribes this formula in Sojourner's " Book 
of Life " : " Equality of rights is the first of rights." 

A woman whose four-score years are so replete with 
good words and deeds that the name falls like a ben- 
ediction upon the listening ear, has taught her sex 
that old age need not be desolate, but may be fragrant 
as a garden of roses. White hairs, like a saint's aure- 
ole, encircle her brow. We involuntarily bow our 
hearts in worship when the honored name of Lucretia 
Mott is pronounced. 

Another is the name of Lydia Maria Child, the key 
note of whose useful life and brilliant intellect has 
ever been attuned to freedom's cause. 

. One crossed and recrossed the Atlantic, to blend 
his efforts with the little band of reformers which 



NOTES <>N THE A i rOOB \rn S1U 

eventually Bleu the giant, Slavery, with n pobblo of 
truth, and demolished bis castle, th«' oornei tone ■ ■! 
which was lies, and its superstructure the bleeding 
hearts of crushed humanity, Landing upon our 

shores he was pursued by the hooting b, as if the 

Plutonian regions had been emptied at )iis heels. 

(i. S., meaning "Great Soul," gave farms to 
poor Macks and whites, carrying oui Sojourner's id- i 
of encouraging industry, and making wild lands a 
Bource of revenue to the government. In I ongi 
he said, "Truth lives and reigns forever. In pro 
portion as we obey the truth, are we able to discern 
the truth." If all that is wrong within us was made 
right, not only would our darkness give place to a 
cloudless light, but like the angel of the Apocalypse we 
should "stand in the sun." 

Another could bear the torture of the branding iron 
rather than be false to his convictions of duty. 

Josephine S. (titling labored for yean to amel- 
iorate the condition of the black race, and in I 
Bystem were sown, by overwork, the seeds of con 
sumption which bore speedy fruit 

Another in the sacred desk ever insisted that hu- 
manity was of all things under heaven the mosi 
cred, A marble bust of this g 1 man adorns the 

City of Syracuse, and a friend writing of it S*J ' It 
is eminently fitting that one of the purest of tin 



320 "BOOK OF LIFE." 

proscribed abolitionists should now be thus publicly 
honored." 

Another, who holds a high position under the gov- 
ernment, is Sojourner's friend, and unites his efforts 
with hers to promote the welfare of the race which 
has been so mercilessly tossed about by our Ship of 
State. He encourages her to persevere in her efforts 
to obtain a grant of land for the freed men, and lends 
his influence to the cause. 

And last but not least are those royal souls who 
sheltered and t comforted the flying fugitive, who fed and 
clothed him, who warmed him by the sacred fires of 
their own domestic hearth-stones. The money they 
have so freely given to the poor and needy, is out at 
an interest whose profits are beyond the power of 
arithmetic to calculate. Their names are engraven 
upon human hearts as with a pen of fire ; and to 
them will the beatitude apply, " Blessed are the pure 
in heart, for they shall see God." 



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